Wilting Roses
by disneyqueen
Summary: Inspired by "Kissed by a Rose."Belle's spirit has been crushed. When her father and her daughter don't return, Belle runs away and finds them captured by a beast. Trading herself, she, her daughter, and the beast must learn to love before it's too late.
1. Prologue

**Hey, this story was inspired by the wonderful story, 'Kiss the Rose" and BETAed by Trudirose. I own nothing, but the plot twists. The orignal story was written by a french women,but my version is from the Disney version. I hope you enjoy. **

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"And the prince kissed her lips and the princess awoke with smile. Everyone in the whole kingdom rejoiced as wedding bells rang in the air and they all lived happily ever after," the father finished softly.

The child clapped her hands as she listened to her father's voice. Maurice smiled down at his daughter, wrapping the blanket around her tighter. He felt the cold wind slipping through the old, cracked wooden door. Outside, snow fell in heavy blankets at the start of winter. Despite the cold weather, the warm fire felt cozy for father and daughter. Its flames lit up the child's cheeks pink. Yellow and orange flames danced across the cottage floor as though the story were being told once more. Through the crackle of the fire, the child dozed against her father's chest as he began another story. Callused hands stroked the child's brown locks tenderly as he stared into the fire. Wary blue eyes watched the flames intensely as though lost in the bright colors.

After a moment, a small, tired voice asked, "Papa, why did you stop?"

"Sorry, Enfant. I was just thinking," Maurice said, looking down at his daughter.

"What about?" the child asked, yawning.

Maurice sighed and pressed his daughter closer to him. "Oh, nothing." He took a deep breath and glanced away from the fire, his eyes stinging with tears. "Just…your maman loved these tales too."

The child shivered as she listened to the harsh wind outside. In the distance, horses neighed and other animals cried out for shelter against the storm. Branches beat against the walls and window in a steady rhythm. Closing his eyes, Maurice sighed deeply as he listened to the mixture of gentle thuds and the crackle of the fire in a simple melody. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted over to small portrait hanging off the wall. Shadows dance across the picture of a young woman. It was a simple sketch from charcoal, but he could still picture her beauty. Straight brown hair which fell to her waist framed a round face. Her deep doe brown eyes could enchant him with a single glance and she carried herself like a lady, despite her humble birth. A tiny smile formed on his face as a few tears rolled down his cheeks with her name perched on his lips.

"Papa, are you all right?" the child asked.

Brushing away the useless tears, Maurice looked down at his daughter. "Oui, I'm fine, just tired, ma petite Belle."

The child, Belle, nodded and yawned. Stroking her hair, Maurice kissed her head gently and led her to bed. Gently, he lay her down on the bed and sighed deeply. How long could he allow his daughter to believe in fairy tales? Fairy tales were for the foolish and he needed to think realistically. Maurice listened to the fire's music as he began to pace up and down the small room. Questions raced through his mind, but all of them went unanswered. Once more, he stared into the fire; a shiver crawled down his spine as he remembered when his own fairy tale had been taken away.

"Constance," he whispered. The name hung in the air as a few more tears rolled down his face. Her warm eyes seemed to stare back at him. Dark brown curls framed her face as she smiled at him through the flames. Maurice shook his head and sighed deeply. So many memories still lingered in the small cottage of his late wife. It was her love of stories that he wanted to keep alive for his daughter…but at what cost? Stories had kept him and his wife going, but harsh reality had crushed his heart. How long was he going to allow his daughter to dream away the world?

Biting his lip, he turned away from the fire and looked over at his child; the spitting image of her mother. A few tears rolled down his cheek as he listened to his daughter's breathing mixing with the melodies of the wind and fire. Maurice sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. It didn't seem possible for his wife to have been taken by a fever only two years ago. How was he going to support his little girl? Maurice sighed again. There was only one answer: move.

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Six: the number kept circling through the fifteen-year-old's mind. It didn't seem possible for her father and her to have moved so many times. Had it only been a year and a half since they had moved to the small town? Belle sighed as she ran her fingers along the spines of four books. Each title seemed to beckon to her as she straightened them on the shelf. Tossing her ponytail behind her shoulder, she climbed down the ladder and glanced out the window. Candlelight reflected against the dark canvas outside, its light bouncing around the store, illuminating the oak floor and shelves. Once more, her fingers ran along the spines of books, a small smile forming on her lips. Behind her, she heard a loud crash. Turning around, she saw books spread across the floor. She squinted her eyes against the dim light as a soft moan met her ears.

"Monsieur Valjean, are you all right?" Belle asked.

From within the darkness, a high, squeaky voice called out, "Oui, I'm fine, Mademoiselle. It was just all these books were so heavy."

Shoving the box away, the bookstore keeper walked up to Belle. Candlelight danced across his white hair and brown apron as he dusted his hands off. Round spectacles were perched on his nose with his dark brown eyes sparking behind him. Laughter shone through his eyes as he began to pick up the volumes. After a minute, he glanced over at the young women and smiled. Her eyes shone with excitement as they trailed over each title.

"Do not worry, Belle, You'll have time to read all of them at some point," Monsieur Valjean said, chuckling lightly.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she bent down to collect the books. Stories had been her life since childhood, but no one seemed to understand. After a few minutes, she heard the cuckoo clock strike seven.

Placing the books on a table, she said, "I'm sorry, Monsieur, but I must be going. It's getting late."

Valjean nodded and handed her a small brown pouch. Coins jingled inside as he pressed it into her hand. Belle bit her lip, but accepted the money. How could she refuse money to help her and her father? Pulling on her cloak, she bid the bookstore keeper good evening and slipped outside. A gentle, cold wind bit against her face as she walked through the deserted center of town. Lights flickered in the windows, guiding her way through the darkness. Despite the quiet evening, Belle could still hear all the remarks and jeers from the townspeople. Belle shook her head as she tried to ignore all the words she remembered, but the words continued to echo in her ears. Every day it was the same, the same harsh words: different, strange, odd, and not right. Again, she shook her head as she turned down another street. Off to the right, she heard roars of laughter erupting from the tavern. Her grip tightened on her cloak, and she quickened her pace, her eyes cast down on the ground.

"Bonsoir, Belle. How are you?" a strong, baritone voice asked.

Raising her eyes, she saw the town's great hunter, Gaston. He was a strong muscular boy, only two years old than she. A tiny smile formed on her lips as she gently nodded to him. "Good evening, Monsieur. I'm fine," the young women replied.

"And where are you heading so late at night?"

"Home, I just finished working at the bookshop," she said.

Gaston gritted his teeth and sighed. When would the girl ever learn that books were not meant for girls? Shaking his head, he smiled at her and stepped closer. Carefully, he raised his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, his fingers toying with her hair.

"Don't you want to have a drink first?" Gaston asked, gesturing to the tavern.

"I really must get home. To help my father," Belle said, stepping away from him.

After a moment, Gaston nodded, taking her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand. "Of course, Mademoiselle. I will see you later. Good evening."

She nodded and watched him enter the tavern. More roars of laughter ran out onto the streets. Bright light blinded her for a moment before she was again shielded in darkness. Tightening her grip on her cloak, she turned and continued her journey. Off in the distance, she saw the lights of her home. Unconsciously, she squeezed the pouch of coins before she entered the cottage. Lights bounced off the walls from a fire crackling in the stove. A wooden table was set in the center of the room with two large chairs. Papers were spread across the table top with her father hunched over it. Belle smiled over at her father, closing the door quietly.

"Good evening, Papa," Belle said quietly as she unclasped her cloak.

Maurice glanced up from his work and smiled at his daughter. "Good evening, Belle. How was work?"

Belle sighed and looked down at the small bag. She felt the coins dig into her skin through the cloth as she looked over at her father. "It was fine. Monsieur Valjean gave us some money and oh Papa, the books. He got all new books…"

Belle sighed again as her father went back to his work. Her eyes drifted over to the right, resting on the small bookcase. Eight books filled the shelves, pushed up against the wooden frame by stacks of paper. Pages and pages of sketches for numerous ideas for inventions were stacked up high, while the books remained untouched by the man who had bought them. Yet, she knew each story by heart, the books' worn binding counting the number of times the stories had been read. Shaking her head, Belle walked over and placed the small coin bag in front of her father. Maurice looked up and nodded before returning to his work.

"Papa, is everything okay?" Belle asked.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just busy with this new invention idea," Maurice said.

Belle raised her eyebrows and picked up another discarded piece of paper. "I thought you were busy with trying to work on the woodchopper, Papa?"

Despite himself, Maurice chuckled. "You are just like your mother. She was always picking up on things like that."

Belle smiled again and set the piece of paper down on the table. "Well, as long as you don't forget it. But is there something wrong, Papa?"

Maurice sighed, walking around the table to stand in front of her. His old, rough hands slid into her smooth, soft ones. Gently, he rubbed her wrists as he stared into her eyes. Tears rimmed his eyes and took a deep breath, his body shaking. After a moment, he collected himself and led her over to a small, worn couch. Belle opened her mouth, but Maurice laid his index finger to her lips as a tiny smile formed on his face.

"Don't worry, Enfant, it's nothing horrible." He took a deep breath and then began again. "It's actually very, very good news. Belle, I...I…when your mother, God bless her, was on her deathbed, I made a promise. It was a promise about you. We were so poor and she wanted to see you have a secure life. I promised her to see you wed by the age of fifteen at the latest, And now, I have found a husband for you. He is a good, strong man who came here asking for your hand tonight, in fact. Now nothing is set, but there is no finer match, I think."

"Who, Papa?" Belle asked.

"Monsieur Gaston," Maurice replied.

Belle felt her body go numb. Marriage, marriage, the word kept circling through her mind. Her eyes dropped onto her lap. She felt Gaston kissing her hand again and she shivered. The great hunter of the town had asked for her hand - it didn't make any sense. He mocked her passion for books and joined the townsfolk in their gossip and laughter of her and father. Was her father blind to the see the odd looks? Could he just ignore all the cold remarks that circled around her every day? All the other girls in the village fawned over Gaston, and yet he had singled her out. She bit her lip, trying to make sense of it all. Her gaze rose and settled on the tiny sketch of her mother. Her mother had asked this of her father, to marry her off at fifteen. Belle took a deep breath and glanced over at her father. "

Do I have to, Papa? I mean to him?" she asked.

Maurice laid his hands over hers and stared into her eyes. His own worn eyes seemed to be searching for answers themselves. After a moment, he sighed, patting her hands. "I have already accepted his offer, Belle. I can't go back on my word can I?"

"No, but Papa, why him?"

"Ma cherie, please consider this. I'm getting on in years, and I won't always be around to support you. Gaston is very well-respected and a good provider - you'll never go hungry. It is a great match,"

"Papa, please. I don't want to be with him."

Again, Maurice grasped her hands in his. "My child, you can't live in a fantasy!" Taking a deep breath, he stared into her eyes. "Just sleep on it, Belle. Monsieur Gaston doesn't expect an answer until tomorrow. Sleep on it for now and we can discuss it in the morning."

Belle felt herself nod, but his words still echoing in her ears. Can't live in a fantasy? Did he believe her to blind to see reality? Once more, her eyes shifted over to the small picture of her mother. Closing her eyes, she sighed, stood up, and walked over to the bookshelf. Maybe it was her own fairy tale coming true in a way with this marriage, she told herself. Picking up a book, she smiled at this new idea. After all, all the women in her stories married and most of them were happy. She listened as her father left the house to retire to his special invention workshop in the cellar. Left alone, she pressed the book to her chest and whispered, "I will marry him."

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**Should I continue or no? Please let me know. Thanks. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Here's the next chapter. Disney owns everything except for my own plot twists. A huge thanks to Truderose for being my BETA. I hope you guys enjoy it. **

Belle sighed in frustration as she turned another page. Too many questions raced through her mind to allow her to enjoy the story. The late afternoon sun hung high in the sky, and a gentle breeze blew against her cheek as she stared out at the open fields beyond the cottage. Pigs' snorts and Philippe's neighs broke into her thoughts as she stood up, dusting her apron off. Off in the distance, she heard a clock chime three times. As she fed the animals, she bit her lip in anticipation. Her father's words from last night echoed in her mind, reminding her that it was about the time for Gaston to arrive. As if sensing her anxiety, Philippe nudged her shoulder gently. Belle paused for a moment and looked at her only friend. Stroking his nose, she smiled as she stared into his large, expressive, brown eyes.

"I guess this is it, Philippe. Papa has arranged for me to wed. Oh, won't it be exciting?" Belle asked, trying to convince herself. Closing her eyes, she pictured Gaston in her mind. She felt her heart beat faster as if it was willing her to be filled with the "true love" that all the damsels in her fairy tales felt toward their heroic princes. In the stories, all it took was one look, and they just _knew._ But when she thought of Gaston, she felt nothing, except – if she were honest with herself – a slight distaste at his rudeness and arrogance, the way he constantly praised himself while looking down on others. But then, she didn't really know him at all. Maybe love would grow once they were married? Opening her eyes, she patted Philippe on the neck.

"Papa says he's a fine match, and Papa always wants the best for me, so it must be true… and every other girl in town wishes she could marry Gaston. So…I guess I'm lucky," she said, wanting to believe it, but her voice was full of doubt. For a moment, she glanced back over at the cottage. An image of her father floated through her mind. When she was a child, Maurice had told her the story of how he and her mother had fallen in love and of all their adventures together. Even at the young age of three, Belle saw how hurt her father was from losing her mother to a fever.

"It must have been true love for him to be so hurt," she whispered to herself. Of all her stories, she loved her father's stories about him and her mother the best, for they were the only thing Belle had left of her mother. Philippe's ears pricked up as he nudged her again. Gradually, Belle ran her hands down his neck. Her fingers dug into his blonde mane as she breathed in his scent: fresh hay, water, and grass all mixed together. Memories of him as a colt ran through her mind as she tightened her grip. Throughout all the moves, Philippe was the only constant thing in her life, but now she had to face this new change alone. After a few minutes, she pulled away and sighed. Gently, the horse nibbled playfully at her ear as hunger filled his eyes. Belle chuckled and withdrew an apple from her pocket.

"Is this what you want, boy?" she asked, holding her hand out flat toward the horse.

Philippe nickered and began to eat the fresh fruit with greed. Seconds later, he sniffed and ran his lips against her palm for any leftover pieces. Belle smiled, pulling her hand away, and held up her empty palms. "Sorry, boy, no more treats today."

Philippe whinnied and shook his head.

Patting his neck, Belle said, "Don't worry there will be more-"

"Belle, what are you doing? You must get ready. Gaston will be here any minute," Maurice called from the back door.

Spinning around, Belle grabbed her book and ran over to her father. Maurice stood at the door and sighed as Belle ran over and slipped past him. Without a word, Belle set the book on the table and began making tea. The fire crackled as it heated the water. Again, she dusted her apron off and fixed her blue bow in her hair; her fingers fiddling with the ribbon with ease. After a moment, she glanced over at her father.

"Papa, are you all right?" she asked, lowering her hands.

Maurice shook his head. "Belle, please go change."

"Change into what? Is something wrong with what I'm wearing?" Belle asked, confusion etched on her face. All her dresses were homespun and plain, for they had little money, and she had no occasion to wear anything special anyway.

"You've been out with the horses and animals, please, for me," Maurice said.

_It must be for Gaston_, she thought to herself. Shaking her head, she said, "Papa, if Gaston asked for my hand already then it shouldn't matter what I wear. He loves me, right?"

"Yes, Belle, but he is coming as our guest right now. Please go and change," Maurice said, pointing to the stairs.

Belle nodded and ran upstairs. Closing the door to her bedroom, she took a deep breath; her eyes scanning the small room. Over in the far right corner was a simple bed set beneath a single window. Beside the bed, a small pile of books are stacked neatly against the bed frame. To the right, a small wooden chest lay open, its frame beginning to rot. Belle bit her lip as her hands ran down her apron again. Why did Gaston coming cause the need to change? Did her father know something she did not? Surely his proposal was not dependent on something as shallow as what she wore? Again, the same questions raced through her mind without any answers.

Belle ran her fingers through her hair as she walked over to the chest, wondering what she could possibly wear that would make a difference to Gaston. Slowly, she walked over to the chest and opened it. Seeing what lay within, she knelt down next to it, her breath catching in her throat. On top of her normal clothes lay a pale red gown. Her fingers ran gingerly across the smooth fabric and she gulped. It had to have cost her father at least a month's wages. Where had he gotten the money? And why did he spend it on a gown when there were so many more important things? Her eyes went back to the small chest and her eyes closed as she thought of her mother's old wedding gown, which had been lost in one of the moves. Downstairs she heard her father calling her to hurry up and she quickly changed.

"Belle, come down here. Our guest has arrived," Maurice called again.

"Coming, Papa," Belle replied as she set her hair brush down.

At the top of the stairs, she paused as two male voices drifted upward. She listened, but their words were unintelligible as they spoke in hushed whispers. Straightening herself, Belle took a deep breath and began to walk down the stairs. The men's conversation ceased as they turned toward her. Maurice smiled at his daughter as she paused at the base of the stairs. Belle looked over at Gaston and tried to smile. Her heart was pounding, but Gaston just returned her smile as he walked over to her.

"Good afternoon, Belle," Gaston said.

Belle nodded. "Good afternoon, Gaston. How nice to see you."

"Isn't it though," he agreed, and got to the point. "Did your father tell you the reason for this visit?"

"Yes," Belle said softly, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"Well then." He took a moment to look in the mirror, checking that his hair and teeth were perfect, then took her hand possessively, looked into her eyes, and said confidently, "Of course I already know the answer, but just to do this properly: Mademoiselle Belle, will you accept the great honor of being my wife?"

Belle pressed her lips together for a moment. Now that the moment was here, her head was spinning. Why had he picked her? Out of all the girls in town he had chosen her. How could she refuse him? Part of her wanted to run away. She looked helplessly at her father and saw him nod. This was important to him. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then turned back to Gaston. "Yes, I will, Gaston."

Gaston grinned. "Of course you will! You're one lucky girl." Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he announced, "The wedding shall be one week from today. Make sure you wear something fancy."

Belle gasped. "A week? Papa-"

Maurice patted his daughter's hand tenderly. "Now, Belle, a week will fly by in no time and then you and Gaston will be together forever," he reassured her, mistaking her dismay. "Don't worry so much and there is a great deal of planning that must be done."

Belle felt her breath catch in her throat. Did she really only have one week left with her father? Her constant companion besides her stories was going to be left alone after only seven days. In the back of her mind, she had assumed her father would be with her forever even after she was wed. Her heart skipped a beat as Gaston wrapped his arm around hers. She glanced over at him uncertainly, but he smiled down at her.

"Come, Belle, let's go to the tavern to celebrate our engagement," Gaston said.

Belle bit her lip. "Not now, Gaston please. I would like to spend some time with my father."

"Oh come now, Belle," Gaston said dismissively. "It's not every day that you get engaged to the handsomest man in town! It's time to announce the big news to everyone."

Again, Belle glanced over at her father. Maurice smiled at his daughter. "It's all right, Belle. Go and enjoy yourself, I have work I must get done anyway."

"But what if you need my help?" Belle asked.

"I'll be fine, now go on," Maurice said, ushering them to the door.

Gaston bowed politely to the older man and headed for the door with Belle in tow. At the door, Belle paused and turned back to her father. Why was he pushing her away when they only had a week left to be together? Was he trying to get rid of her? No, he wouldn't do that to her.

"Have a good time, Belle," her father said.

"Papa, please come with us," Belle asked, grabbing his hands in desperation.

Maurice smiled and shook his head. "Non, ma petite Belle. Go and enjoy yourself." He kissed her gently on the cheek and smiled at her. Belle smiled too and kissed him on his head. Straightening herself, she took a deep breath and followed her impatient fiancé out the door and to the tavern.

A week later, glasses were raised in celebration with the cool beer overflowing the cups. Cheers and whistles bounced around the room. Men patted Gaston on the back while the women cried for the loss of the most handsome man in town. The wedding ceremony had taken place at dusk at the small church. Everyone was there watching the union between the young couple. Now everyone was drinking their fill of beer in celebration. Belle felt herself being brushed aside as everyone flocked to see Gaston, barely acknowledging her.

She sighed and dusted off her wedding gown, a simple white dress with a low neckline, long selves, and a flower pattern long the hem. Her hair flowed down her back to her waist. She glanced over at Gaston in his red suit, gray pants, and black boots, with his dark hair slicked back. It didn't seem possible for a week to go by so quickly.

Her wedding gown swayed gently as she slid past the townsfolk to her father. Maurice stood up and smiled at his daughter before kissing her on the cheek, a few tears of happiness rolling down his own.

"God be praised, my dear. I can't believe you are wed," her father said, smiling.

Belle hugged her father. "I know, Papa. I can't believe it either."

Her gaze drifted down to the gold band around her finger. It glinted softly in the lamp and candlelight. Was it really possible that she was wed? Now she was to go off with her husband and away from her father. Even after a week, she still could not accept that. Who would look after him after she was gone and had her own life?

Someone clearing their throat brought her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Monsieur Valjean. The old bookseller smiled at the young bride and withdrew a small package from behind his back.

"Just a little present for the happy bride and a little keepsake to remember me," he said, placing the package in her hands.

Heat rushed to her cheeks and she smiled. "Oh Monsieur Valjean, I could never forget you and I promise I'll be back to work after the honeymoon."

She unwrapped the present and a brand new leather book fell into her hands, its fresh pages untouched as her fingers ran gingerly across the cover. She felt her lips move as she silently read the title. Her face lit up, her eyes shining as she looked over at her employer and friend, she only person she knew who understood the power of the written word, how it could transport the reader into another world of adventure and romance.

"Merci, Monsieur Valjean. This is one of the best gifts I could get," Belle said gratefully.

The old bookseller's cheeks grew red as he looked down at the ground. "You are most welcome, Madame. Though I'm sure the most important gift was given today: your grand husband."

Although Gaston was several feet away, the word "husband" instantly caught his attention. "Are you talking about me, Monsieur?" Gaston asked immediately, making his way over.

"Oh…I…I was just saying how lucky Madame is to have you as her husband," Monsieur Valjean said softly.

Gaston beamed proudly as and wrapped his arm around his new bride's waist, drawing her closer.

"Yes, it is a very lucky evening, Monsieur, I…" His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the book in her hands. "What is that, my dear?"

"It's a present from Monsieur Valjean," Belle said, unconsciously tightening her fingers around the volume.

Gaston sighed. How many times did he have to tell her his view of women and books? It was unnatural. A girl _thinking_ was something he could not stand. Women were meant to stay at home cook, clean, and have children: nothing more. All those damn books would fill the girl's with silly ideas and poison her mind. Gaston tightened his grip around her waist possessively, but forced a smile at the bookseller.

"Merci, Monsieur Valjean, but I'm afraid we have no use for the book at the moment," Gaston said coolly, before he smiled knowingly. "After all, during the honeymoon, one cannot be bothered with such things, now can they, if they are to start a family." He chuckled at his own wit.

A roar of laughter and whistles echoed from the small group close enough to hear Gaston. Gaston gently but firmly took the book from Belle's hands and handed it back to Valjean before escorting Belle away. For a moment, Belle glanced over at Valjean, her eyes wistful as her gaze fell onto the book. Her hands shook as Gaston shifted her into a dancing position. How could she have let him just take the book from her? It was a present given to her on the eve of their wedding! Why couldn't he understand her love for books like her father and Monsieur Valjean? Yet, with all the other people around how could she cause a trouble and ruin the evening? Troubled, Belle focused on the music now, losing herself in the melody.

Later that evening, Belle sat down in front of the hearth in her new home. Gaston sat beside her, his arm draped around her shoulder. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair and a shiver crawled down her spine. For a moment, Gaston paused and looked down at her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Belle nodded, but pulled away from him. "I'm fine, just a little cold."

She slid off the couch and went to grab her cloak. A loud thud echoed across the floor as something fell out of a pocket. Belle blinked and looked down to see the gift from Monsieur Valjean lying on the floor. Carefully, she picked it up and smiled.

_Papa or Monsieur Valjean must have slipped it in while I was dancing,_ she said to herself. Her eyes grew wide with excitement, her heart aching to go upstairs and begin the new story.

"What is that, Belle?" Gaston asked, his eyes narrowing as he stood up.

Belle gulped, but pressed the book to her chest. "It's the present Monsieur Valjean gave to me."

"A present I returned to him," Gaston said, annoyed. "You have no need for those things. How can you even read them anyway? They don't even have pictures!"

Wanting her husband to understand her, Belle explained eagerly, "Stories allow me to go anywhere. It's magical the places I…" Her voice trailed off as her husband stared at her blankly. The effect of stories was lost on him.

"Get rid of it. Now," Gaston said firmly. "That thing has no place in this house."

"No, I love books! They have been a part of my life forever!" Belle protested, tightening her grip on the book.

"And it is time for you to start your _new_ life, Belle. Get rid of it." He stood up and began to walk toward her. Once more, Belle tried to persuade him, but her words fell on deaf ears. He kept advancing until she was pressed up against the door. Leaning in close, he whispered something in her ear. His warm alcoholic breath caused her stomach to twist in knots. Why had she not seen how much he had had to drink? He reached to grab the book away from her, but she ducked around him and headed to the other side of the room.

"Please, Gaston you won't even know it's here, I promise!" Belle said her voice firm.

Gaston advanced until she fell back onto the couch. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and pried her fingers off the book one by one. Raising it over his head, out of her reach, he said, "Belle, I don't like to have to tell my little wife to do something more than once. This is my house, and I expect to be obeyed. There will be no books in my house. Do you understand?"

Belle shook her head and tried to straighten herself. "No, I do not. How can books be bad?"

Gaston didn't answer; as far as he was concerned, the subject was closed. He turned toward the hearth, the fire crackling gently as its light casting shadows across the floor. Without a word, he tossed the book into the fire.

For a moment, Belle sat there in shock. Then she shot up, ran over, and threw her hands into the flames to retrieve the book, its pages dark as they crumbled into ash. Instantly, she pulled her hands away and gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Her hands and her wrists were raw red with a blister beginning to form. Tears rolled down her cheeks silently as Gaston bent down and helped her stand up. Gingerly, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared into her eyes.

"You see the damage those things have caused! They are dangerous and I do not want them ruining my little wife's mind or…" He glanced down at her hands "Her body. Now…do you understand that I do want those books in the house?"

Belle's bottom lip trembled as she nodded, the pain from her hands spreading through her entire body. Gaston smiled drunkenly at her and kissed her forehead before collapsing onto the couch again, satisfied that she had gotten the message. Belle shivered and quickly ran over to a jug of cool water and began to soak her hands. Biting her lip, she glanced back over at the hearth; the silver letters of the title glinting against the harsh flames.

**I hope you enjoyed. Please review and keep a look out for the next chapter. Thank you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter. A special thank you to my BETAer TruiRose. This is my first attempt to write from the Beast's POV, so I hope you enjoy. **

Far away from the quiet little village, a large castle stood alone surrounded by the dark forest. Massive blocks of stone were tainted gray from a thick mist which surrounded the castle. Even the red roofs were cast in a gray haze. High spiral towers stretched above the tallest tress, but were hidden from view by dark clouds. Through the fog, fierce blue eyes stared out west over the treetops. The lone figure growled in frustration as he stared out at the forest: a forest as empty as his heart. Turning away, he walked back into his chamber of the West Wing. Instantly, his eyes settled on a small table, set apart from the other wreckage of the room. Set upon the table was a small bell jar, protecting a beautiful rose. The enchanted pink glow of its petals had begun to fade as the years passed since the fateful Christmas. Once more, the beast growled in frustration as he turned his eyes away from it. It was a constant reminder of the eventful night, one that still plagued his dreams. Shaking his head, the Beast walked out of his chamber.

Cobwebs and dust clung to the walls and the banisters of the stairs. Massive, deformed gargoyles were perched in the corners along the long, silent corridors. Silence filled the large rooms as he crawled through him until he reached the main hall. As a child, he used to sit by his father as he received the peasants' complaints and concerns. His father had thought that even the greatest tutors were no substitute for experience. Now, alone in the great hall, he could hear the ghostly whispers of both the peasants and nobility. The castle had always been full of life for him as a child: from grand balls to the servants as they rushed around. Even when his parents had passed away, there was movement and noise of people crying and mourning the loss.

His heart skipped a beat as he tried to remember, but he couldn't remember if he had cried for his parents. His father had always taught him to be strong and that crying was for the weak. The beast shook his head, ridding himself of the memories. Now, everything had been silenced. Silenced by an evil enchantress and a huge wrong decision from a young, spoiled, and naïve prince. The beast growled in frustration as he looked around the room again. Dark navy blue curtains were drawn over the windows, but his keen animal eyesight could see the outline of the throne. The beast growled deep in his throat as he turned away from the chair. Just looking at the throne caused him to remember an entirely different life. Every day he felt himself turn more and more into a true animal. All the servants had learned to keep to themselves, leaving the master alone, unless they wanted to taste his anger.

For a moment, his ears perked up at the distant sound of two voices. Looking over to the right, he saw two small balls of light bouncing off the wall. Carefully, he walked over and listened as two of the servants talked.

"It has been a long day," a golden candelabra, Lumiere, said, as he hopped beside a brown clock.

The clock nodded. "Yes, it was. Another day gone under this wretched curse."

"Ah, my friend, we must have faith."

Cogsworth scoffed, but Lumiere continued. "Faith that one day the curse will be-"

"Shh, shh, shh," Cogsworth said, lowering his voice each time. Lumiere looked over at his friend, a silent understanding passing between them. Both friends look around the corridor and quickened their pace.

A growl erupted in the beast's throat as he turned and stormed back over to the West Wing. The damned servants dared to talk to about him and the curse as if it could be broken. How could they have such faith when their future was set in stone, unable to be changed? Whispers, damned whispers of hope surrounded him every day, but there was no hope left. In frustration, he ripped a portrait on the wall. A portrait of himself, or how the master painter had imagined the prince to become. His claws ripped into the handsome face and tore it apart. Why did the picture have to torment him now? How could the servants feel as though there was hope? His entire future was gone, destroyed by his damned mistake. The fabric from the portrait fell into the floor in pieces, like the pieces of his mistake all those years ago.

Closing his eyes, he could still picture the night perfectly. It happened during the presentation of the gifts. Candles, the decorations on the tree, sparkled in the grand hall. All the other nobility had left, returning to their homes for the holidays, which left the young prince alone with the servants. Each of the servants presented their simple gifts to the prince, but he ignored them all. As a prince, what could servants give that he didn't have already? There had been a loud knock at the door, halting the celebration.

Now, as he remembered, his eyes snapped open and he shook his head. There was no use thinking about that night; it changed nothing. It only brought more pain and anger to remember. For a moment, his gaze fell on the enchanted rose again. His claws curled into fists as he turned away, thinking of the number of years he had left before the spell became permanent. Again, the servants' words of hope ran through his mind. The beast sighed and shook his head. He couldn't admit it, not even to himself. After all the years, he still felt a glimmer of hope to end the curse, yet just as quickly, the idea of it vanished, crushed under the pain of the curse upon him. For a moment, his eyes fell upon the rose with only one question on his mind. How long must the curse go on?

**Well I hope you enjoyed it. I know it's short, but the next chapter will be longer, I promise. Please review and let me know what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter. I own nothing, but Chantal. Everything else belongs to Disney and the creator of the orignal fairy tale. You'll notice I changed the summary because I have deiced to go with the basic movie plot concerning Maurice and the fair. I hope that doesn't turn anyone away from the story. A big thanks to Trudirose for being my BETAer on this story. I hope you enjoy it. (If I get any translations of French messed up I'm sorry.)**

**Oui = Yes**

**Mamman = Mom **

**Cherie = Honey, Baby, or Sweet Heart. **

**Again I hope you enjoy and onto the chapter. **

"_Congratulations, Madame. You have a healthy baby girl," the midwife announced as she held the infant up. _

_Even covered in blood and clear fluid, the baby looked so beautiful in the midwife's arms. Belle felt herself collapse back onto the firm mattress, her whole body drained and exhausted. Off in the distance, she heard water splashing and her baby's cries as she was washed for the first time. Moments later, she heard a door close and footsteps echoing across the floor. She felt her husband squeeze her hand and wipe her forehead with a tenderness she had never felt from him. The young wife heard him praise her for a job well done. _

"_Here now, let us give the mother and her child some time," the midwife said, carrying the bundle over to the young mother. _

_Despite the pain, Belle reached both arms up and took her child in her arms. Gaston grinned and wiped a strand of hair from his wife's forehead. "At last my first born son. I have waited for this day a long time."_

_Belle smiled and glanced over at him. "No, Gaston. Our first born daughter." _

"_WHAT?" Gaston looked down at the bundle and frowned. The longer he looked at the child, the darker his features became. Shaking his head, he hissed, "No, no…where is my son? What have you done to him?"He turned on the midwife, glaring at her. _

_The midwife shook her head. "Monsieur, this is your child, I assure-"_

"_That thing can't be mine. I can only…I must have sons. The doctor even said it would be a son," Gaston said, glaring at the older woman. Belle began to say something, but Gaston whirled on her, pinning her back onto the bed. "What have you done? Who is the father, you little whore!"_

"_You are, Gaston I swear you are the father!" Belle said, her eyes wide in shock. Her heart began to pound. How could he just ruin this__ miraculous__ day for them? Automatically, her grip tightened around the infant. Gaston turned away with a frustrated growl. "Get rid of that….that damned mistake."_

_In her arms the child began to cry. The crying grew louder and louder as the scene between the midwife and her husband dissolved into darkness. _

Belle's eyes snapped open as she heard her child's cry growing louder. Quickly, she scrambled out of her bed and ran into her daughter's room. The little five year old girl lay in bed hugging a rag doll. Lighting a candle, Belle sat down beside her daughter and pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt Chantal's small hands cling to her as mother and daughter began to rock back and forth.

"What's wrong, ma cherie?" Belle asked, running her fingers through her daughter's brown curls.

"Maman, I saw….saw….a bad man in my dreams," the child cried, burying her face into her mother's chest.

Belle's breath caught in her throat. "A bad man," had become a code between them for her father when he got angry at being disobeyed. Belle looked down and kissed her daughter's head. Unconsciously, her fingers rubbed against Chantal's arm. The child winced and shifted her away. Belle whispered an apology and moved her hand away from the odd mark, even after three months the scar still hurt her. Belle took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could still see the blood. Guilt swam into her heart as she remembered that day. It had been a bright and sunny morning with her and Chantal doing their chores. Around noon, Belle had told Chantal to go out and enjoy the day. The child had protested, but Belle smiled and told her it would be fine and to go an enjoy herself. Belle felt her stomach tighten as she remembered Gaston storming into the cottage dragging Chantal behind him, blood flowing from a wound in her arm. Gaston had gotten angry and had struck her too hard, causing her to fall against a sharp tree branch.

Belle ran to her and asked, "What happened?"

Gaston snapped. "The little brat was out in the fields singing when she should've been doing her chores."

"Gaston I _told_ her to go. It was such a lovely day-"

"Belle, the little brat will never marry if she cannot obey her…me or her future husband, though I doubt anyone will want her, ugly little creature."

Belle tried to protest, but Gaston slapped her. "Don't let her slack on her chores again. You know how I hate being disobeyed don't you, my little Belle?"

Belle nodded and Gaston had left to finish hunting. Chantal had cried the entire time her mother cleaned her wound, blaming herself for her mother getting hurt.

Belle shook her head and pushed the memory away. Yet, Gaston's words still echoed in her mind as her hand brushed against her stomach: she did know what happened when she disobeyed him. Beside her, she felt Chantal begin to whimper again, tears rolling down her face as she hugged the doll tighter to her chest. Carefully, Belle turned Chantal to look at her and wiped away the tears. Through the dim candle light, Chantal stared up at her mother. Her dark blue eyes were red and her tear-stained face broke Belle's heart.

Quietly, Chantal asked, "Maman, will I be able to sing next week at church?"

"Oui, Chantal, you will. Why wouldn't you?" Belle asked.

"Papa, says I haven't been a good enough girl to sing," Chantal said, burying her face into her mother's chest.

Belle stroked her hair. "Don't worry, I'll talk to your papa. You'll be able to sing on Sunday."

Chantal sniffled. "You promise?"

"I promise. Now, go back to-"

"Will you sing me a song?"

Belle nodded and kissed her again. "Of course."

After tucking her back into bed, Belle began to sing softly. It was an old lullaby her father used to sing to her when a story didn't work. Her voice dipped and soared quietly as she sang, allowing the song's own melody to carry her from her thoughts. Soon, she heard Chantal's deep, even breathing and laid her back down. A tiny smile formed on her lips as she stared down at her daughter. Turning around, she began to walk over to the window.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an open journal. Moonlight shined over the pages and she saw tiny sketches of small inventions cover the pages. In a large script the different titles of the inventions were written in the top right corner. A tiny half hearted smile formed on her face as her fingers ran across the page. Behind her, she heard her daughter shift in her bed. Belle sighed and began to close the book, but paused as her wedding ring shone in the moonlight. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned the ring on her finger.

Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, but she could still feel the pain of loss clutching at her heart. She could still feel the cold, lifeless, body of her still born son from her first pregnancy. Old scars reopened as she remembered the harsh words her husband had snapped at her when she was too weak to defend herself. Her body trembled from the memories before she collapsed into a rocking chair. Tears rolled down her face as she turns back to look at her daughter….her reason to live. Wiping them away, she stroked Chantal's brown locks until sleep claimed her.

Morning light awakened her from her dreams. She blinked twice allowing her eyes to adjust. Gradually, she got up, kissed her daughter's forehead, and walked down stairs. She breathed a sigh of relief that her husband was not awake yet. Carefully, she begins to prepare breakfast. Setting it on the table, Belle looked up and saw Gaston standing in the door frame. His black hair was slicked back and he wore a dark red shirt and black pants. His eyes fell on his young wife and he frowned. "Where were you Belle? You were not in bed when I woke up last night."

"Chantal was crying," Belle said softly.

Gaston's eyebrows furrowed as he sat down at the table. "Who?"

"Our daughter," Belle said.

Gaston ignored her and sat down at the table as Belle served breakfast.

Setting down the plate, Belle took a deep breath and asked, "Gaston, why did you tell Chantal she can't sing on Sunday?"

"The girl has work to do and singing is a distraction from her chores. Surely you remember what happened last time she skipped out on her chores. And how is she ever going to find a husband if she doesn't take her chores seriously. I mean the girl can't cook-"

"I'm teaching-"

"Her needlework is always a mess. Dear God, Belle what have you been teaching that…creature?" Gaston asked, looking over at his wife.

Belle's heart grew heavy. How could her own husband dismiss his own daughter as to nothing more than a maid? Did he still blame her for their loss? Belle took a deep breath and began to eat her own breakfast. The couple ate in silence, lost in their own thoughts. For a moment, Belle glanced over at her husband, but he ignored her and kept on eating. After seven years of marriage, they barely talked except when it concerned their daughter, but even then it usually ended in an argument. Where was her Prince Charming, like the ones from her stories? How could her life turn out this way? Clearing her throat, she said, "If I did her chores, could she sing?"

"If you do them it defeats the point of her doing them," Gaston said, not looking at her.

"It's just this one time, Gaston," Belle said.

"I said no. What about that do you not understand, woman?" he said, his dark eyes narrowing.

"But-"

"No!" He took a deep breath and stood up. "I'm going out. I won't be back until dinner. And about her singing on Sunday I trust we understand each other?"

For a moment, Belle opened her mouth, to protest, but then nodded. She felt her blood boil at his lack of interest or compassion for their daughter. In the early years of their marriage, she had stood up to defend her daughter. Yet, her attempts only made matters worse, sending him into violent rages. Now, she tried to persuade him without outright defying him. She took deep breath and shook her head. How was she going to tell Chantal that her father had denied her wish? She thought about trying to talk to him again, but once his mind was made up nothing could change it.

"For Chantal," she whispered to herself. Even if she got in trouble, her daughter's happiness came first. Clearing the dishes away, she carried them over and placed them in the wash bucket. A single tear rolled down her face as his words rolled over in her mind. How could he not understand that Chantal loved to sing? Was he going to take away her singing as he had taken away her stories? During their first year of marriage, she had tried to keep stories in her life, but her husband wouldn't stand for it. She remembered him even threatening to shut down the bookshop if she kept brining books home. A shiver crawled down her spine and she shook her head.

"Mamman?" a quiet voice asked from behind her.

Belle glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Yes, Chantal?"

The girl walked further into the kitchen and looked at her mother. "Can…can I sing on Sunday?"

Belle paused and looked back outside. "I'm still talking to him, Chantal."

"But he said…he said…" Chantal's bottom lip began trembling.

Again, Belle took a deep breath and looked down at the dirty dishes. After a moment, she wrapped her hand in her apron. She turned and bent down next to her daughter, brushing her fingers through Chantal's hair. "It's all right. Don't worry, ma cherie." Her brown eyes brightened as she said, "Now go get ready. We're going to go see your Grand-pere."

Chantal's face regained color as she nodded fiercely. Without another word, she ran back upstairs to get ready.

The sun hung high in the sky as mother and daughter walked into the village square. Calls of 'Bonjour' flew through the air as people greeted each other. Belle smiled and nodded at everyone she saw. Beside her, she feels her daughter hiding behind her blue dress, her small fingers curling around the cloth. Chantal lifted her head and began to sniff the air, the scent of fresh bread surrounding her.

Chantal tugged her mother's dress and pointed. "Can we go there? The bread smells so good."

Belle began to reply, but was cut off by the baker. "Good morning, Madam Belle."

Raising her head, she smiled and walked over. "Good morning, Monsieur."

"And where are you off to today?" the baker asked, setting a tray of fresh bread down.

"To see my father," Belle replied.

"Oui and I'm gonna help him. We're still having trouble with the machine to work, but Grand-pere says it will work once we get-"

"That's nice. Now what can I get for you?" the baker asked, dismissing the talk of inventions.

"Can…can…" Her voice trailed off as she looked helplessly up at her mother.

"She wanted some bread didn't you, Chantal?" Belle said.

The child nodded as the baker began to prepare the order. Leaving the bakery, Belle began to hear whispers flying around. Unconsciously, Belle tightened her grip around Chantal's hand. Customers and other villagers seemed to collect in small groups gossiping and pointing as mother and child walked by. Since her marriage, she rarely went out without her husband and she knew the townspeople were intrigued by her daughter. Taking after her grandfather, the wacky inventor, was something the villagers didn't understand. More whispers floated around as the villagers watched the pair. Yet, Chantal ignored them, a glint of excitement in her eyes as she and her mother walked. Crossing the bridge a little way out of town, Chantal broke away from her mother and ran all the way over the small cottage.

Chantal's tiny hands pulled at the iron handles of the basement workshop, but it wouldn't open. Her bottom lip trembled as she glanced over at her mother. Belle smiled and placed her hand over her daughter's and pulled the door open. Instantly, smoke flew into the air around them. Off in the distance, Belle heard Philippe neighing. A pang of guilt crept into her heart. Had it really been five years since she had ridden him? Her eyes drifted over toward the small barn, but she couldn't see him. She was brought back to reality as she heard her daughter giggle.

Entering the basement, she saw Maurice swinging Chantal around. His large hands were around her waist while her arms were stretched out as though she was flying.

After a moment, Maurice brought her down to the ground and said, "Ah, Enfant, you've grown so big."

Chantal nodded, a faint smile forming on her face. Maurice returned the smile and looked over at his daughter. "How are you, Belle?"

"I'm fine, Papa," Belle said. Her lips pressed together nervously, but her father had returned his attention to his latest invention. After five years, the woodchopper was almost finished. Yet, Maurice seemed frustrated as he walked around the machine, his eyes scanning the whole thing. Shaking his head, he said, "I still can't figure out what's wrong with this piece of…." He caught sight of his granddaughter. "Piece of junk. I think I might as well give up."

"Oh papa, don't say that. Your inventions always end up working," Belle said, moving over to her father.

Maurice grunted and folded his arms.

"If you don't finish it, you'll never become a world famous inventor," Belle whispered into his ear, her hands on his shoulders.

"You really believe that?"

For a moment, Belle glanced over at her daughter. Chantal had began to circle around the machine too, her hands pressed up against the main metal center, her eyes shining with anticipation as she looked over at her mother and grandfather. Squeezing Maurice's shoulders, Belle asked, "Chantal, do you think Grand-pere will become famous?"

The child nodded fiercely and ran over, grabbing Maurice's hand. Belle smiled and looked back at her father. "See, we've always believed in you."

"And I can help you fix it," Chantal said, looking up at him.

Maurice smiled and nodded. "All right then, let's get to work my little helper."

Chantal cheered as she and Maurice began to work on the machine together. Maurice rolled underneath and began to order Chantal to give him the necessary tools. Belle sat off to the side and watched them work. Only here with her father had she ever seen Chantal smile and laugh so care free. Belle could not remember a time when she had been as interested in her father's inventions as her daughter was. Her tie to her father had been through the stories he told her, stories she could not share with Chantal now. Her eyes lowered onto her hands, her scarred burned hands. A shiver ran down her spine as she shook the memory away. Focusing on her daughter and father, Belle allowed herself to escape the pain with her imagination.

A loud chopping sound brought her out of her thoughts. Her eyes followed a large piece of chopped wood as it flew through the air and landed directly into the wood stake.

Standing up, Belle cheered, "You did it!"

Chantal ran over and hugged her mother. Belle kneeled down and kissed her. "You really did it!"

Maurice glanced over his shoulder and said, "Hitch up, Philippe, girl. I'm going to the fair to become a world famous inventor." He looked at Chantal, smiling. "And I'll need my best helper with me."

Again, Chantal's eyes grew wide. She turned to her mother, uncertainty clouding her mind. "Can I go, Mama?"

Belle nodded, smiling. For a moment, she felt a pang of jealousy; getting out of the village sounded wonderful. Yet, she knew it would be a wonderful experience for her daughter too. Going out of the village and being with her loving grandfather might even make up for the disappointment of not being able to sing. Again, Belle nodded, "Yes, you can go, Chantal."

Chantal cheered and ran back up the stairs. Maurice looked over at his daughter and rested a reassuring her on her arm. "Don't worry, Belle. We'll be all right. I'll take good care of her. It's only until Wednesday."

"I know, Papa. Thank you doing this," Belle said, smiling. Together, she and Maurice left the basement to prepare for the journey.

**I hope you enjoyed it. Again I changed the story's summary because it just seemed easier and more logical to go along the lines of the movie with the fair. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review. What did you think of Chantal as a character? And thanks again for TrudiRose for being a wonderful BETAer. And keep a look out for the next chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter. I thank SamoaPhoenix9 for being my BETAer for this chapter. She is great. I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists. I'm not going to be able to update any time this week for personal reasons (getting my wisedom teeth out tomorrow) Shudders. Anyway I hope this ties you over. And without further adu onto the story. **

The enchanted rose flashed a bright shade of pink and the beast growled. It didn't seem possible for a simple flower to hold so much power over him. All these long years seemed blurred together, yet, each held the same result. One more year closer until the damned curse became permanent. Shaking his head, he looked around his private chamber. Another growl rumbled low in his throat as he scanned the destroyed room. Even if his parents had been alive, they wouldn't have noticed. Except where it concerned his studies and ruling, his parents had left him alone. To busy with matters of state and dinner parties to pay much attention to him. Now, none of the servants ever cleaned the room, leaving their master alone. Inwardly, the beast chuckled darkly to himself as he looked back at the rose. The spell could only be broken with love. Love, the one thing neither his parents nor his tutors had taught him. Once more, the beast shook his head and sighed. His large, animal sensitive ears perk up as rain begins to pound outside.

Rain beat down against the roof with a rhythmic pulse to it, similar to the depressing music he heard so often. Music played by the court composer Forte, the favorite composers of his parents. Thunder clashed overhead and he felt his thick brown fur bristle. For a moment, his eyes drifted over to another darkened chamber set off to the left. Normally, music played out from within the chamber, but the room was silent. Turning away, he stormed out of the West Wing. He climbed silently down the stairs, his claws skidding against the marble. All the corridors stood empty except for the fierce twisted statures and cobwebs on the walls. For a moment, his ears perked up at the sound of voices echoing from the main hallway. The beast slid back into the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he heard the servants leading someone into the main parlor. With his sharp keen eyesight, he could see the outline of a short man. A man, what could a man do to break the curse?

Once more, his ears perked up at Cogsworth protestations. "No…No! You know what the Master will do when he finds…"

A low growl escaped from the beast. What were the servants thinking? Allowing a stranger inside the castle wasn't for them to decide. How dare they allow someone inside? The beast narrows his eyes and moves down the stairs closer to the main parlor.

Inside the room, a warm fire crackled in the hearth in front of a large chair. Maurice stared wide eyed at all the objects moving around on their own and speaking. Sitting down in the chair, he placed Chantal on his knee as a teat cart rolled up beside them. A round china tea pot smiled at them.

"How would you two like a spot of tea?" the tea pot said before purring fresh tea into a chipped cup. Looking at the child, the tea pot said, "Here you go, child. Go on it'll warm you up in no time."

Chantal shook her head and looked up at her grandfather. "When are you we were gonna go to the fair?"

Maurice smiled down at her and took the small cup of tea. "When the storm passes"

"But the invention will be ruined," the child said, worry shining in her eyes.

"It will be fine," Maurice said, smoothing her hair with his other hand. Drowning the warm tea, he said, "This is very good."

"Thank you," a small voice said.

Maurice blinked. "Oh, hello, what's your name?"

"Chip," the small tea cup replied.

Chantal's eyes grew wide

Double doors flew open by a gust of icy wind which blew out the fire and the flames on the candelabra. A thick hushed silence fell over the room, the scent of uncertainty and terror swirling around. Through the darkness, the beast saw something move deeper into the shadows, but he couldn't see the shape, his eyes fixed upon the chair. On all fours, he stalked over to the chair, his blue eyes blind with rage.

"There's a stranger here," the beast growled, his eyes scanning the room for the disobedient servants.

Lumiere and Cogsworth both began to explain, but the beast silenced them with a roar. Didn't they understand the need for privacy? What had possessed them to allow a stranger inside? Both servants cowered, but the beast ignored them, his attention drawn back to the old man. Maurice's eyes grew wide with terror as he scrambled out of the chair.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the beast roared as he began advancing on Maurice.

Maurice swallowed, but his throat was dry. "I…I was lost in the"

"You're not welcome here!" the beast roared, his eyes flashing with rage. Yet in the back of his mind, a flicker of astonishment swept through. Since the curse was laid no one has ever found the castle at least not by accident. Once more, the man stammered an apology, his eyes scanning the room. The beast narrowed his eyes and raised himself to his full height. "What are you staring at?"

Maurice shook his head. "N-nothing…I swear."

The beast opened his mouth, but paused at the sound of small whimpers. His head snapped around, his eyes scanning the room. Another human scent filled the room as the whimpers grew louder. Was there someone else here too? Inwardly, he cursed the servants. One person was horrible enough, but two people was beyond unacceptable. Again, his eyes narrow as his tries to see through the darkness. Walking over toward the fireplace, the scent and sense of terror grow stronger. Behind him, the beast heard the old man say, "Please…don't hurt her."

The beast blinked. Her…there was a woman with him. What were the servants thinking? An image of the Enchantress swept through his mind, but he pushes it away. If these two were Enchanters, they had been shown some hospitality and neither of them would be frozen in such fear. Shaking his head, he looked down and saw Chantal rocking herself back and forth, her knees brought up against her chest. A child…she was a child! Did the servants think him _that _low? The child raises her head, her eyes wide, but her gaze unfocussed and hazy. She shivered and tried to crawl around him to her grandfather. The beast glared at her and the child quiet moving, frozen to the floor.

"Please leave her alone…she's done nothing wrong. We just needed a place to stay," Maurice called out from behind the beast.

The beast glanced over his shoulder and then back at the girl. His fur bristled as glared down at the girl, her eyes wide.

"What are you doing here, child?" the beast asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The child said nothing, but stared up at him her eyes wide in terror. Again, the beast repeated the question, but the child still didn't reply. The beast growled, his blue eyes flashing with rage. How dare the child not respond to him! With one hand, he picked the girl off the ground, ignoring her cries. "So you two have come to stare at the beast!"

The beast's head snapped around to the older man and the beast began advancing on him. He felt the child go limp in his hand, but he ignored her, his mind racing. Time…he needed time to think. He vaguely heard the man protest and apologize tripping over his words. Yet, the beast's eyes narrowed as he picked the old man up too.

"I'll give you a place to stay!" the beast growled as he stormed out of the parlor.

None of the servants raised any voice of protest and stayed out of their master's way, closing their ears to the screams that echoed down the corridors. Soon, silence fell across the chamber again and the servants dared to look at each other. Each pair of eyes shone with the same unasked voiced question. Would the curse ever be broken now? Two travelers in ten years and neither could help. What were the possibilities that someone else would come to break the spell?

**Well there it is. I know it's not much differant then the movie, but please bear with me. I tried to make the beast's reasons for locking Maurice and Chantal up work, but it is a hard scene to work with in getting the Beast's motivations (as other authors have said) right. So I hope it made sense. So please review and again to all the people who have my story on Alerts, I really, really thank you, but can you please leave a review if you actually read the chapter. Please and thank you. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next chapter. I own nothing, but the plot twists. This chapter is deicated to SamoaPhoenix9 and I hope you enjoy it. A big thank you to TrudiRose for being my BETAer. I hope you enjoy. **

Belle hummed a little as she hung the last bedsheet on the laundry clothesline. A gentle breeze blew through the clothes and sheets in a rhythmic wave like a melody. For a moment, she paused and just listened to the sound, missing her favorite sound of all: the voice of her little Chantal. Belle smiled to herself as she pictured Chantal singing while she helped her mother do the chores. Picking up the basket, she caught sight of her wedding band. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Seven years…it didn't seem possible for her to be married that long when at times she felt like a child. The sound of the back door opening broke into her thoughts. She looked over at her husband.

"Is there something you wanted, Gaston?" Belle asked, tucking the empty basket under her arm.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm going to be gone all day and won't be back until supper," Gaston said, adjusting the gun on his back.

Belle nodded. "All right."

Gaston smiled down at her. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later," he said.

For a moment, his arm brushed against hers, and she couldn't help wincing. Yet, Gaston only smiled and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. Belle watched him leave and sighed as her fingers gingerly ran over her arm. Even after two weeks, it still hurt when touched. Again, she winced, pulled her fingers away, and went into the house. Over the last two days, the entire house had seemed emptier and darker without her daughter's face to brighten her day like her father's had in her youth. Unconsciously, her hand slid around her stomach and her heart grew heavy. In her deepest heart she yearned for another child, but the way Gaston touched her at night made her stomach twist in knots. She remembered his rough, possessive hands running along her body. Four months after Chantal had been born, Gaston had taken her to his bed again. Closing her eyes, she remembered that night and shivered.

"_Come to bed, Belle," Gaston called from their bed. _

_Belle gently placed the infant in the wooden crib. "Gaston, please not so loud. I just got the baby to sleep."_

"_Enough about the baby, come here," Gaston commanded, sitting up. _

"_No, Gaston, not tonight. I'm tired-"_

"_You'll come when I tell you, woman. Come to bed!"_

_Belle crossed her arms over her chest and whispered harshly. "No, Gaston. I won't come when it happens to suit you."_

_Gaston glared at her and got out of bed. "You come when I say you do. That…that…" He __pointed an accusing finger at the sleeping infant and grabbed Belle's arm. _"_That…creature takes up enough of your time and keeps me up till all hours of the morning. Now come to bed."_

_Belle pushed his hand off of her and glared at him. "No! I said no, not tonight. And," Despite the infant sleeping, she felt her voice rise. "I DON'T belong to you like some cheap trinket you get from a shop. Just leave me alone!" _

_Gaston grabbed her arm again, almost cutting off her circulation, and pulled her to him. His words were a harsh hiss as he spoke into her ear. "By law and in God's eyes you do belong to me and you need to learn your place."_

_Belle glared at him."My place? How dare you-"_

_Belle's head snapped to the right by the force of Gaston's blow. She felt the taste of blood upon her lip. She stared at him disbelievingly. It had never occurred to her that he would go that far. Again, Gaston grabbed her and pulled her into bed, ignoring her protests._

_The next day, she had gone into the village. She entered the house of the midwife and called out, "Is anyone home?"_

"_Oh Madame, what a nice surprise. How are you and little Chantal doing?" the midwife asked, coming in from the kitchen. _

_Belle smiled. "Chantal is fine, thank you."_

_The midwife watched her closely and gestured for them to sit now. Leaning across the table, she asked, "Is everything all right?"_

_Belle nodded, but ran her hands together nervously._

_The midwife raised her eyebrows and took one of Belle's hands into hers. "Are you certain there is nothing wrong?" Belle began to say something, but the midwife continued. "I only ask because I see a large bruise on your cheek." _

_Bell tried to cover it up, but soon the whole story of the previous night poured out her. The midwife listened without question. Her eyes grew soft with sympathy at the mention of Gaston's violence toward his wife. When Belle was done, the midwife only nodded. "Sadly, my dear, we cannot control's a man's temper."_

"_You…you mean this…all men are like that?" Belle asked, shocked, as she gingerly touched her cheek. _

"_Not ALL men, but my dear…" Again, the midwife took Belle's hand. "Just remember your place. Keeping him happy will ease his temper."_

"_Are you saying I brought this on myself?" Belle asked, anger lacing her voice. _

_The midwife shook her head. "I wouldn't put it like that. Of course you were tired after a day of taking care of the baby, all women know what that's like! But you must understand, my dear, men have needs, and once you're married, it's your job to fulfill those needs. That's why he lost his temper. Of course, he shouldn't have laid a hand on you, but if you'd fulfilled your wifely duty as you're expected to, and not been a shrew, it would not have gone as far as it did. I cannot imagine Monsieur Gaston doing something like on purpose. Again, keep him happy and I'm certain it will work out." _

_Belle felt her heart skip a beat. Was Gaston's behavior ACCEPTABLE? Did she not have a say at all when it came to his treatment of her? A wife's duty…that's what the midwife called it. Was it a wife's DUTY to just take the violence and just accept it? Was she meant to not think for herself and follow her husband without question? Her father had raised her to believe in herself and think for herself, and her books had opened her mind to all kinds of ideas. The only other person in the village that she'd ever talked to in depth was Monsieur Valjean, the bookseller, who shared her open-mindedness. Of course, she knew the other villagers thought she was "odd", and frowned on her reading, but she'd never fully realized until now how truly narrow-minded the view of women was here, how few rights they really had. _

_Her index finger gingerly traced the bruise and she shivered, her heart frozen with the idea that no one would help her. Last night, she had seen Gaston's true temper and it scared her. A shiver crawled down her spine as she twisted the wedding band around her finger. Her father had always told her the ring was a symbol of love between two people. Yet hers was not. The ring was a symbol of possession, chaining her and her husband together. _

_Belle vaguely heard the midwife turning the conversation back to Chantal, but Belle was lost in her own thoughts. She remembered Gaston's rough hands roaming over her body last night. Her heart sank as she realized that Gaston's words were true. By law and in the Lord's eyes, she belonged to him and he could do anything he wanted without her consent. She was trapped in her marriage, with no way out. _

Belle shook her head, trying to suppress the memory. She had gotten pregnant that night, but four months later she had suffered a miscarriage. Gradually, her gaze drifted to heaven. _Oh God what have I done wrong in your sight? How have I angered you that you punish me so by taking two of my children from me? _For a moment, she waited, but no answer came. She shook her head, picked up her cloak, and walked outside, remembering to tend her father's animals.

The sun was high in the sky as Belle walked through the village. Loud voices swept around her as the the villagers went about their routines: women haggling for prices to be lowered and men joking and selling their items. A few people glanced over at her, but there were no whispers spread, as everyone was lost in their own lives. Each day seemed to run in a circle, unlike her stories in which each new day offered adventure. Adventure…like the ones she had craved to have as a child. How had her life gone so wrong? Why had she given up on her dreams so easily? She knew the wish to please her father was part of it, but was there something else? Somewhere in her heart, did she think that her father was right in saying that a fairy tale life was impossible?

A voice interrupted her thoughts, and she blinked back into reality. "Huh?"

"I said what a pleasure it is to see you, Madame," Monsieur Valjean said, smiling.

Belle blushed and nodded. "Oui, it's good to see you again too, Monsieur."

"Come in, come in," he said, opening the door to the bookshop and gesturing for her to enter. Belle shook her head and made an excuse of being busy.

The bookseller pouted, but nodded. "Of course, but you must come back. I just got some new books and I would love the company when I unpack them."

Belle bit her lip. "I'm not sure that is the best idea, Monsieur."

Monsieur Valjean's eyebrows furrowed and he took a step closer to her. "Is something wrong, Belle? You never come to see me anymore."

"No, nothing is wrong," Belle said. "I'm just so busy…"

Again, the bookseller took a step closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you certain?"

Belle hesitated. How could she lie to him, a man who had been like a second father to her and shared her love of stories? She remembered the late hours they had spent talking about the stories they had read. For a moment, the silver letters of the book _King Arthur_ burning in the fireplace flashed through her mind. Her heart tightened as she remembered the last time she had held a book in her hands.

_It had been a month after their wedding and Belle was visiting her father. She had settled into a chair to read a new book. The tale had captured her with its writing and beautiful story: about a girl who falls in love with a disguised prince. She had just reached chapter three when she heard a knock. Setting the book down, she sighed and went to open the door. _

"_Hello, Gaston," Belle said. _

_Gaston pushed himself into the room and looked down at her. "Belle, I know you are new to being a wife, but when I get home, I expect you to be there with dinner waiting on the table. Do you understand?"_

_Belle nodded. "Of course, Gaston. I was just…" _

_Gaston looked over her and frowned. Pushing past her, he walked over to the table and picked up the book. "What is this?"_

"_A book," Belle said, smirking. _

"_I thought I made it clear how I feel about books."_

_Belle felt her voice tremble as she said, "I thought you meant-"_

"_You thought, you see that is the problem with these things," Gaston said, moving back over to her. "They encourage you to think." He scowled. "And I will not have your mind tainted with these foolish ideas. I have so much to teach you about the proper role for a woman. Obviously your crazy father never taught you."_

"_Never talk about him like that, Gaston," Belle said, narrowing her eyes. Her blood boiled at the insult to her father and she tried to grab the book back. Gaston slapped her and shoved her away from him. Belle staggered back and held her hand over her sore cheek, shocked. After a moment, she said, "Gaston, give me the book."_

"_No, I will not have my little wife wasting her time with these dreadful things. And if you spend time with that old damned bookseller again I promise you I will burn that place down."_

_Belle's breath caught in her throat. Her heart yearned for her book, but she felt herself nod. In all her stories the heroes and heroines thought of others before their own needs. Once more, she nodded. _

Belle shook her head as she was brought back to the present. Monsieur Valjean stared at her, concern etched onto his face. "Is something wrong, ma enfant?"

"Non, Monsieur, everything is fine," Belle said, forcing a smile. "But I really must get going. I'm taking care of my father's house well he is gone."

"All right, have a good day, Madame," Monsieur Valjean said.

"You too, Monsieur," Belle said with a halfhearted smile. Each time she passed the bookshop, she yearned to return to her youth where she had filled her days with stories. Yet Gaston's threat kept her away and Chantal seemed to share her father's lack of interest in the written word. Belle felt her heart grow heavy as she tried to remember the last time she had read a book. The rest of her journey to her father's cottage was quiet, but she still felt the nagging voice in her mind, wishing her to go back to the bookshop. But if Gaston found out he would keep his promise of burning the shop down, and she couldn't risk that. The shop was Monsieur Valjean's life and she loved stories too much to see it destroyed.

Taking a deep breath, Belle sighed and walked back around to the barn. The pigs and other animals cried out welcomes to her, warming her heart. Belle began to feed them. It seemed just as routine as her other chores. Why couldn't she have adventures like the heroes in her books? An image of Chantal swept through her mind and she pressed her lips together. She couldn't have her life when she had a daughter to look after, that was her adventure now.

At a sound in the distance, her head snapped up. Looking out east, she closed her eyes and listened.

"Who's there?" Belle called out, opening her eyes.

No one answered. Cautiously, she began to walk around the house, out toward the meadow. The sound kept getting louder and louder as she walked away from the house. A cool breeze blew past her as she continued to walk. She paused and listened and heard a neigh. She ran faster up to the meadow, her heart pounding against her chest.

"Papa, Chantal!" Belle cried. Philippe began to run toward her voice and slowed down as he reached her. Belle began to cry out again, but her voice trailed off at the sight of the empty saddle. Terror shot through her as she skidded to a halt. Grabbing the reins, she looked at the horse.

"What happened, Philippe?" Belle asked, her voice shaking with fear. "Where's Papa and Chantal?"

The horse snorted and shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Can you find them?" Belle asked, running her fingers through his mane.

For a moment, she glanced back toward the house. She knew Gaston's temper would flare when he came home to find her gone, but this was an emergency. Surely, he would understand when she came home with Chantal. Despite his cruelty, she still believed that deep down he loved his child and would be heartbroken if she was lost. Again, the horse snorted and then neighed. Taking that as encouragement, she climbed up onto his back. How long could it take to find them? An image of her father and Chantal being left in the woods hurt swept through her mind. Her heart fell into her stomach at the horrible possibilities, but she pushed those thoughts away. None of the heroes in her stories let fear or doubt kept them from going on their quests. She felt her fingers tighten on the reins as she turned Philippe back toward the woods.

"Don't worry, Philippe, we'll find them," Belle said softly. "We have to."

Philippe's ears turn toward her voice, waiting for a command. She dug her heels into his sides, and horse and rider galloped off into the forest.

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Historical note. During the time in which the story takes place (the 1800s), the church and God where a big part of people's daily lives and marriage was seen as something where God brought two people together for better or worse (no pun intended) So I thought it was important to show that aspect in terms of marriage. And I hope it made sense why Belle became so passive in marriage over the years. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and to Soama I hope it answered some your questions that you brought to my attention and I wish to thank you. And to all my readers who want to know how theBeast and Belle end up together even though Belle is married, have no fear, but keep reading. ****I hope all my readers enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and thank you. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. To all my reviewers who have wished my well for my teeth, I'm pleased t say it was not as painful as I thought and your wishes for my health was very moving, so I thank you. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. A big thanks to Trudirose for being my BETAer. I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

The sky began to darken as the horse and rider continued through the forest. Every once in awhile, Belle called out for her father and daughter, but neither of them answered. Hours were passing, but she couldn't return home without them. She knew Gaston would be furious with her, but she could deal with him. Leaving her father and daughter alone in the cold was unthinkable to her. Her eyes were growing heavy with exhaustion when she felt the horse tense beneath her as he stopped. Belle blinked and stared at the large, rusty iron gates looming over them. She tried to see beyond the gates, but no light lent its aid.

"What is this place?" Belle asked herself.

At the sound of her voice, Philippe became nervous and reared. Tightening her grip on the reins, she managed to stay in the saddle until he lowered himself to the ground. She patted his neck and whispered soothing words to him as she climbed off. She ran her fingers through his mane and looked into his large eyes.

"It's okay. Steady, boy." We need to find Papa and Chantal."

Philippe whinnied nervously, but calmed down. Belle smiled at him and muttered a 'good boy' before turning back toward the gates. Now that she was on the ground, the gates seemed to rise even higher than before, and she stepped back involuntarily toward her faithful companion. She felt Philippe nudge her shoulder in encouragement. Cautiously, she walked forward and pushed at the gate.

The rusty iron creaked as the gate swung open into the deserted courtyard. Her eyes rose and she stared at the massive, gray castle before her. She felt her stomach knot as she lowered her gaze back to the ground. Something round caught her attention and she ran forward before she had time to think. Bending down, her fingers ran along the rim of a worn brown hat, and she picked it up, recognizing it as her father's.

"Oh Papa," she whispered, uncertainty and fear lacing her voice.

A neigh broke into her thoughts and she turned back to Philippe. Her fingers continued to run around the rim of the hat as she returned to the horse.

Patting his neck, she said, "I'm sorry, Philippe. But look!" She held up the hat for the horse to see. "It's Papa's, and that means he must be here! Come on, boy."

She took the reins again and walked back through the gate with Philippe. The courtyard was larger than she had expected, although it was deserted. Philippe's hoofbeats and her footsteps seemed to echo across the yard as they walked further inside. Belle scanned the yard as though Chantal could be hiding in the dark shadows. Belle shook her head at the very idea. If her father and Chantal were fine they would have run to her at the sound of her voice. After a few minutes, she found the stables and pulled Philippe into an empty stall. Removing the saddle and bit, she praised her horse, but he was too tired to pay attention to her.

The cool evening air bit into her face as she walked back out into the courtyard. Her grip tightened on the hat nervously. Could her father and daughter really be inside the castle? Were they hurt? Her eyes scanned the large, gray stone walls of the castle, her heart skipping a beat. The castle loomed over her as she craned her neck trying to see through the clouds to the towers. Rubbing her neck, she lowered her eyes and walked around to the front. She pulled open the large wooden door and slipped inside.

An eerie silence filled the massive corridor before her. Her footsteps padded against a large red carpet. Her eyes scanned the entryway as she walked toward the staircase.

Tentatively, she called out in the darkness, "Hello, is anyone here?"

No answer. Belle walked up the stairs, calling out for her father and her daughter, searching the corridors. The whole castle seemed as deserted as the courtyard. Each corridor seemed to stretch on forever. The eerie silence sent a shiver down her spine as she roamed from room to room.

Despite the silence, there were no signs of decay on the walls. No cobwebs hung over doorframes or in corners. Hidden in the shadows, she could make out the silhouettes of statues made of rock or marble. Belle's voice echoed off the walls as she called out again.

"Papa? Chan-"

Belle spun around as a door creaked open. Quickly, she ran over and pushed the door open further. A flickering light bounced up a winding staircase away from her. Following it, she called out, "Papa? Wait…please I'm looking for my father."

Her hands ran along the cool stone walls as a guide as she walked up the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a candelabra set in a small opening, but no one else. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's funny…I was sure there was someone here." Carefully, she called out in the darkness. "Is anyone here?"

A moment of silence passed and Belle felt her heart began to sink. Then a familiar voice returned her plea.

"Maman! Maman!" Chantal cried, her voice bouncing off the walls.

Belle's heart leapt for joy as she ran to her daughter, grabbing a torch from the wall along the way. Small hands reached out to Belle between rusty iron bars. In the torch's light, Belle saw Chantal's face pressed up against the bars, her face pale and thin. Her blue eyes were wide with relief at the sight of her mother. Tiny, icy fingers brushed against Belle's cheek as Chantal kept repeating, "I want to go home!" A cough jarred her small body and she pulled something around herself.

Belle felt her heart pound against her chest as she recognized her father's cloak. Trying to keep her voice calm, she asked, "Chantal…what happened?"

The child shivered and coughed again, looking frightened. She opened her mouth, but she just kept whispering, "Want to go home."

Belle caressed her cheek as she called out for her father, her voice cracking. "Papa…Papa!"

Chantal shifted over slightly and Maurice's pale face slid into view. Belle grabbed both their hands and asked, "What's going on?"

Maurice ignored her question, astonishment etched onto his worn face. "How did you find us?" he asked before he coughed too.

"With Philippe's help," Belle said, her lips twitching into a smile. She shook her head and looked between her father and daughter. "Who's done this to you?"

"It was a…" Chantal coughed and looked at her mother. "A monster, Maman. A big scary monster!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to push herself through the bars to get to her mother.

A monster? Belle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the word kept repeating in her mind. Maybe Gaston was right, maybe stories did make someone crazy. Belle shook her head. No, she had never shared her stories with Chantal, who was never interested in them. _What is she talking about?_ Belle asked herself. Maybe she meant the person who had locked them up – a person who became "a monster" in Chantal's mind, the way Gaston was "the bad man" in her dreams.

Belle felt Chantal squeeze her hand, but her grip was weak from the illness. Whatever her daughter meant could wait. Belle began to search for a key. She had to get them out of here. Belle began to stand up, but Chantal cried, "Mama,, don't leave!"

Belle knelt down again and reached through the bars. She brushed away her daughter's tears as she said, "I won't leave you-"

Something grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Her right arm felt like it had been ripped out of its socket. She heard Chantal scream, and a splash as the torch fell before darkness surrounded the room. A shouted order to run bounced off the walls, but she couldn't decipher the speaker. Belle moved further back into the darkness, and her grip tightened on her cloak. Panic filled her body as her eyes scanned the darkness for her attacker.

"Who's there? Who are you? Belle asked, her voice trembling.

A sliver of moonlight stretched across the room and she saw something huge and hulking shift in the shadows. Something…inhuman, she realized with horror. It seemed like an animal, but it spoke in a human tongue.

"I'm the master of the castle," the creature growled.

Despite the pain in her shoulder, she crawled back over to the cell. Again, Chantal reached out for her mother, but Maurice pulled her back, half shielding her from the whoever was there. Belle's eyes squinted against the darkness as the shadowy figure moved toward the cell across from her. Belle's heart began to pound as she stared up at the figure, remembering what Chantal had said about a monster. Belle tried to remember back to her stories from seven years ago. How had the heroes dealt with monsters? In all the stories, monsters locked up innocents with a plan to eat them. Did this monster have the same intention? Another cough from Chantal brought her back to reality.

Once more, Belle's voice trembled as she spoke. "Please….I've come for my father and daughter. Please let them go, they've done nothing to you."

"They were trespassing," the creature growled.

Instinctively, Belle backed away from the creature. Her mind was racing with ideas. With her husband, she learned how to persuade him to get something for Chantal. And in all her stories, the monsters liked riddles or trades from their captives. Yet, now her daughter's very life hung in the balance with no time to play stupid games. Rubbing her shoulder gingerly, she said, "If…if they were gone they wouldn't be any more trouble for you."

The beast growled and took a step forward. Chantal cried out, but the creature ignored her, his eyes fixed on the young woman. "They shouldn't have come here at all!"

The creature turned toward the cell, but Belle continued quickly to distract him. "Why are you keeping them here? They are nothing to you."

"They stay here as my prisoners," the creature growled.

Belle's motherly instinct overcame her terror. "You don't care if they die? Please let them go."

"You have no say in the matter. Now get out of here." the creature roared, his eyes flashing in the moonlight.

Belle shrank back, and a shiver crawled down her spine. Behind her, Chantal grabbed her hair and cried, "Maman, don't leave…"

Another coughing fit made the child spasm, and she whimpered and curled up next to Maurice. Belle's heart skipped a beat as those words echoed in her mind. No, she could never leave her father and daughter no matter the cost. But what could she use to make the creature let them go? Her mind raced until an idea struck her. The creature had moved over to the door.

She moved into the patch of moonlight as she called after him. "Wait!" Somehow she felt the creature pause at her request. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Take me instead." Belle dared to look up at the creature. "Let them go in exchange for me."

"You?" the creature roared. As her words sank in, he paused and glanced over at the young woman. "You…would take their place?"

"Belle…no! You don't know what you're doing," Maurice called out, terror lacing his voice.

_I didn't know how my life would be when I married, either,_ Belle thought to herself. All the pain of losing two children, her husband's treatment of her and their child wasn't something she expected.

The creature turned and growled, taking a small step toward her. "Well…what is your answer?"

Belle recoiled back into the shadows herself, fear pulsing in her veins. What would the creature do to her? At least with her husband, she had learned the limits of his violence and how to avoid his anger, but this monster was something else completely. Another coughing fit from Chantal broke into her thoughts and Belle drew some strength. Looking up at the creature, she said, "If I stayed….would you let them go?"

"Yes," the creature said. "But…you must promise to stay here forever."

Forever! That word rang in her mind as she twisted her wedding band. If she stayed, she wouldn't be able to protect Chantal from Gaston's anger. Gaston…would he come after her if she went missing? The thought gave her a surge of hope. He barely seemed to notice when Chantal was away, but Belle was his wife. Surely he would come and save her from this prison. No matter what, she just couldn't let her father and daughter stay here and die? What other options were there?

If she WAS going to stay, she needed to see her captor. Tightening her grip on her cloak, she said, "Come into the light."

Gradually, the creature stepped into the sliver of moonlight. Large claws scraped against the floor. The feet and legs covered in brown fur until torn trousers began to cover the creature. It rose over Belle like a behemoth, its cruel fangs and claws glinting in the moonlight.

Belle's hand flew to her mouth. She fell against the wall as terror filled her mind. This…creature was like something out of her stories. She imagined those sharp claws digging into her skin at the first sign of real disobedience. A shiver crawled down her spine. How could she live with a monster? If it even allowed her to live…

In the distance, she heard Maurice's voice telling her she didn't have to promise that monster anything. Her eyes closed as she tried to get the image out of her mind as those fierce, icy eyes stared down at her.

"Maman?" Chantal called out before she coughed again.

Belle's heart leapt into her throat at the sound of her daughter's voice. No matter how high the price, her daughter's safety came first. Her knees shook as she pushed herself off the ground. She slid into the moonlight, tears rimming her eyes. Her voice cracked as she nodded. "You have my word."

"Done!" the creature growled, pushing past her.

Belle collapsed onto the ground, exhaustion and terror filled her body. Off in the distance, she heard the cell door opening and footsteps pounding against the floor as someone ran to her. Maurice kneeled next to his daughter with his granddaughter in his arms. The child was wrapped in his torn cloak in the hope of some warmth, but the child continued to shiver and cough. Her cheeks were flushed, but there was no fever. Chantal reached for her mother and coughed.

"Belle, listen to me, take Chantal and go. I've lived my life. Let me trade myself for you two…" His voice trailed off as the beast began to pull him and Chantal away. The child began to call out for her mother, terror filling her blue eyes before she coughed again.

Belle realized in dismay that Chantal was too weak and sick to travel. What had she done"? "No…wait!" Belle called again, scrambling after them. She grabbed Chantal's hand.

The beast spun around and glared at her. "What do you think you're doing? You made the trade, your life for theirs."

"No…please….let the child stay," Belle begged, her voice breaking in desperation. There was no way Chantal could survive the journey home. How could she send her child away to die? Gaston wouldn't care for her, and her father was too sick himself. There had to be a way for her to keep her child. Again, she stood up though her eyes were kept 'trained' onto the ground. "Please….if you send her away, she could die before she reached any help."

The beast growled and tossed the child to Belle.

"Fine, keep her," the beast growled.

Belle hugged and rocked Chantal in her arms, her heart full of relief for a moment. In the distance she heard her father call out her name, his voice echoing off the walls as he was dragged down the stairs. Belle cried out for them to wait, but the beast paid no attention to her. Cradling her daughter, Belle ran over to the top of the stairs, but the door slammed shut, trapping her and Chantal. Against her, she felt Chantal shiver, her small body jarring with each cough. Belle stroked her hair and began to whisper soothing words to her. Chantal stared up at her mother and asked softly. "Where's Grand-pere going?"

"He's going on a vacation," Belle said, praying her daughter believed the lie.

Chantal nodded and slumped against her mother, drained. Slowly, Belle walked over to a small window and peered outside into the empty courtyard. Down below she saw some odd wooden spider contraption crawling across the ground and out into the forest. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched her father leave: just as he had left her after her wedding to be with her husband. An image of the monster filled her mind and she shivered and tightened her grip on her child. She had wanted to get away from her monster husband. Yet, had she only traded one monster for another?

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and more will becoming. Though since school has started, I'm not certain how mmuch time I will have to write. Anyway, please review and thank you to all my reviewers.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the next chapter. I'm sorry for the long delay, but with school and other life problems I have only now able to post this chapter. Now an important note, this chapter I have BETAed myself since both my normal BETAers are dealing with things in their lives. So if I have missed anything I'm sorry. It is tough to edit your won work. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. I hope this chapter will be worth the wait and I know it's long, but if I broke it up it seemed like it would be to short, and without further inrotuction onto the story. **

_"You have my word. Let the child stay." _Those words echoed in the beast's mind as he returned to the castle. The woman had said yes, but the child was a problem. How could a married woman and mother ever break the dreadful curse him? It still amazed him that three people had found the castle at all. Now he was stuck with two humans. In the moment of the bargain, he hadn't thought things through and cursed himself.

How could he not think things through twice? When the enchantress came, he hadn't given a second thought to denying her entrance and was now cursed. With the girl he had agreed to the trade forgetting the child. The bargain's terms had been a simple exchange: her life for the old man and the child. Yet, something in her eyes had softened his heart as the woman begged for her child to stay. A low growl of frustration rumbled in his throat as he made his way back up the tower. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lumiere set in the little niche. The beast vaguely heard the candelabra address him.

"What!" the beast growled, glaring down at the servant.

Lumiere, visibly jumped back, but was able to keep himself upright. He began to fiddle his candle arms nervously. "Well…since the young Madame…and child…"

"What about them?"The beast asked, barring his teeth at the candelabra, in warning. Lumiere cleared his throat. "I….since they are going to be here for…quite some time," He dared to look up at his master. "I was…thinking you might want to offer them….a comfortable room."

The beast's eyebrows furrowed. How was giving them a comfortable room help at all? He shook his head, grunted wordlessly, and walked into the dungeon. With his keen eye sight, he saw the young woman and child huddled to the left, near the only window. Tears rolled down the young woman's face while the child, though asleep, coughed and shivered in her mother's arms. Sickness that was what the woman had said. Over the last ten years, since the enchantment, there hadn't been such a thing in the castle. How was he meant to help here? What could he do?

The young woman looked up at him; her tear stained face glaring at him, though her body shook. She felt her voice tremble, but she said, "You…could've let us say good bye." More tears began to roll down her cheeks. "We'll never see him again…." Her voice trailed off as she hugged her sleeping child. She mumbled something, but he couldn't hear the actual words.

The beast felt himself sigh. Even if the woman couldn't love him, there was no reason to cause her pain. Yet, what could he do to help them? They were his prisoners; they were meant to stay in the dungeon. Again, he saw the child shiver and he grimaced. He could at least do _something_ to ease the child's suffering. He took a step into the room and paused. He watched the young woman pushed herself back against the wall, her eyes lowering onto the ground. Her arms seemed to tighten around the girl, protectively. Again, he took a step into the cell and paused, his eyes growing wide. The young woman was shivering too. She had removed her own cloak too and wrapped it around her daughter at the cost of her own warmth and health in the cold cell.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I'll show you two your room."

The girl's head shot up, confusion shining in her eyes. "What?"

The beast growled and spun around. Expanding his arms, he asked, "Do you want to stay in here? Until she dies?"

Instantly, the woman recoiled again in fear before she gently shook her head. She pushed herself up, a small wince escaping her lips as she shifted her child in her arms. Without a word, the beast turned and began walking back down the stairs, picking up Lumiere on the way.

None of them spoke as they walked down endless corridors. Only the sound of the child's coughs told him that he was still being followed. His mind raced for something to say, but nothing came to mind. He couldn't remember the last time he said anything that wasn't an order. In his right paw, Lumiere nudged him softly and whispered, "Say something to her. You will never get anyway in silence. Why not try to comfort them? "

The beast glared at the candelabra. What did he think could come of a young mother and him? Yet, even if nothing could come between them there was no reason not to say anything. Nervously, he cleared his throat and glanced over at his shoulder at the woman and child.

"I…I hope you like it here…." His voice trailed off, uncertainly. What else could he say? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lumiere gesturing for him to continue. Inwardly, he cursed at his servant and sighed. What else could he give them?

Again, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the woman had stopped following him. He watched the child begin to stir and woke up. Instantly, the child hugged her mother tightly, terror filling her eyes. The woman winced again and gently set her down, removing her own cloak around the girl to allow her to walk.

"Come on, Chantal. It's…it's all right," her mother said softly as she held her hand. Slowly, the mother and daughter returned to the beast and the quart continued walking.

The beast took a deep breath and continued to talk, "The…the castle is your home so you two may go anywhere you wish." He held up his other hand in warning. "Except the West Wing."

Chantal's head rose in curiosity. "What the west-?"

"It's forbidden!" the beast roared, spinning around, his eyes narrowing on the child.

The woman pushed her daughter behind her, shielding her from his fierce temper. Her eyes lower onto the ground with trained humbleness. "I'm sorry. Please she was only curious."

Another fit of coughing erupted from the child and the beast grunted and turned away. Picking her daughter up, the woman continued to follow him through endless corridors. The rest of the trip was in silence, except the woman whispering soothing words to daughter.

He stopped at one of the guest suites, which had been used for visiting nobility during his childhood. It was the only the room that was kept clean from the obsessive wardrobe mistress, who couldn't leave the room since the curse. The beast often wondered what the servants did to occupy their time and he only hoped the room was clean. He opened the door and stood aside for the woman and child to step inside. Cautiously, the two stepped into the dark room. The child…Chantal still clung to her mother's legs and she shivered. Her mother paused at the entrance and stood still, uncertain.

Beside him, the beast heard Lumiere whispering more advice. "Invite the young manmade to dinner."

The beast growled low in his throat and leaned down closer to the young woman. Again, the woman pushed her daughter inside the room, away from him. The beast narrowed his eyes at the action. He had given her permission to explore the whole castle and a real room and the woman didn't trust him with a child. He felt the woman's body stiffening in anticipation, but not fear as he leaned in close, barely an inch from the young woman.

"You will join me for dinner." He said, his words a hiss before he straightened himself. "That's not a request!"

Without another word, he slammed the door, the sound echoing off the walls. He set Lumiere down and stormed off the west wing. What had possessed him to order her like that? The woman was all ready terrified of him and was expecting the worst. Was he just trying to prove her right that he was the monster she saw? The beast growled and began to pace the West Wing, impatiently.

Back in the bed chamber, Belle leaned back against the door. Her whole body felt drained of energy. The order for dinner had shocked her, but she couldn't refuse him. Her stomach felt empty as she remembered his hot breath against her ear. Was she to become a servant to that monster? Yet, he had said to _join him_ for dinner. What did that mean? Belle felt her knees shake as she pushed herself away from the door. She watched Chantal beginning to explore the room on her own. After a moment, Chantal looked back over at her mother and pointed to a large four poster navy blue canopy bed. Belle felt herself nod, her mouth to dry to speak as she walked over. Her eyes began to explore their new room with blue panels. No portraits hung on the walls and her gentle footsteps echoed off the marble floor. The room seemed as empty as the prison cell and the beast's words of death ran through her mind.

_No, Chantal will be fine_, she thought to herself, walking over to the bed.

Her fingers brush against the warm dark navy conformer as she helped Chantal into the bed. A tiny smile formed at the corners of her lips as she stared down at her daughter: small and lost in all the pillows. Again, Chantal began to cough as Belle tucked the blankets around her.

Stocking her hair, Belle said, "Are you feeling better,ma fifille?"

The child nodded and looked up at her mother. Chantal's body jarred as she coughed again, her face pale and her voice hoarse. After a moment, she lay back down and stared up at the canopy. Neither mother nor child spoke for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Belle glanced out the large window and saw the first glimpses of snow beginning to fall and she shivered. Snow would prolong Gaston's attempts at rescuing them. How long would she and Chantal be forced to live here?

"Mamman?" Chantal's soft voice broke into her thoughts.

"What is it, Chantal?" Belle asked, looking down at her daughter.

The child shifted under the blankets, bringing the quilt right under her chin. "Is…is this…going to be home now?"

Home! The word echoed in Belle's ears, her heart pounding. How could she answer the question? Unconsciously, she began to twist her wedding band around her finger again. She had not had a real home for the last seven years. The last, the only real home was in her childhood with her own father. And now she and her daughter were trapped with a real monster. Looking down at her daughter, Belle felt a piece of her heart break. Would she and Chantal ever have a real home? Where homes meant to be so cold or filled with fear?

"Mamman?" Chantal asked again, tugging at her mother's hand.

Belle blinked and said, "Sorry, Chantal. Did you say something?"

Chantal began to laugh, but it turned into a cough. After a moment, she said, "Is this…place gonna be home?"

Belle caressed her cheek, her fingers running through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Oui, ma chère, we will be living here for a while."

The child nodded and yawned. Her eyes began to drop with sleep when someone knocked at the door. Mother and daughter looked at each other before Belle rose from the bed. She took a small step toward the door as she called out, "Who is it?"

"Mrs. Potts, dear," a warm motherly voice replied.

Belle quickened her pace and opened the door. No one was there. Hesitantly, she poked her head out further into the empty corridor. She felt her mouth open to call out, but another voice interrupted her. The voice came from around her ankles, but that made no sense. Looking down, she surpassed a gasp as she saw three pieces of china staring up at her.

Belle blinked and the round tea pot repeated, "I thought you two might like some tea."

Belle felt her feet moving backward, but her eyes never left the talking tea pot. It was not possible for this to be happening. A monster who spoke in the human tongue was one thing, but this was beyond her understanding. She raised her hand to check for a fever, but her forehead was cold. How was this possible? The tea pot hopped further into the room followed by a tea cup and a jug of milk as Belle continued to back away.

Behind her, she heard Chantal cough and move around on the bed and Belle began to turn around. "Chantal, you-"

"Oh careful," a high pitched voice said, a light trace of laughter filling the voice.

Again, Belle opened her mouth in surprise as she moved back over to the bed. A large wooden cream colored dresser stared down at her with bright eyes. The dresser shifted her eyes over to the child and smiled. Chantal's eyes grew wide and she crawled over to her mother. Belle sat down on the bed, cradling her daughter as her mind reeled. What could things be? Each of them moved with human like abilities and spoke. A shiver ran down Belle's spine as she stared at the wardrobe and then down at the china.

"This…this is impossible," Belle muttered under her breath.

The dresser's smile grew as she leaned down. "It may seem that way, but here we are. But at least they," she gestured to the china with a wooden arm, "Can leave I'm stuck in this one room all day."

Belle bite her lip in sympathy. She knew exactly what it was like to feel stuck in one place and not allowed to leave. Chantal coughed again and looked up at her mother, her eyes wide.

"What's going on?" Chantal asked her voice hoarse.

"Hi, remember me?" another high voice asked from the floor.

Chantal leaned over the bed and stared down at a small tea cup. A small smile spread across her face as she cried, "Tea cup!"

The little tea cup chuckled as he looked up at the little girl. "My name's Chip."

Chantal tested the name out and nodded in approval before she shivered. The little tea cup shifted his gaze and looked over at Belle and smiled. "I told you she was pretty, Mama, didn't I?"

Belle bite her lip at the compliment and turned her attention back to her daughter. She pushed Chantal back into the pillows and tucked her in. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the high contrast between the comforters and her daughter's pale face. Running her fingers through her daughter's hair, Belle began to whisper soothing words and sighed. What could she do to help her daughter? There was no hearth to keep her warm and her coughing seemed to be growing worse. Again, the order to dinner rolled around in her mind and she shivered. If only she could be two places at once: taking care of her daughter and going to dinner. In her mind's eye, she saw those fierce blue eyes baring into her and she winced, imagining the creature turning on her if she disobeyed.

"Would you and the child like some tea dear?" the tea pot asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Clearing her throat, Belle nodded, forcing herself to remain calm. "That…that would be wonderful Madame-"

"Mrs. Potts, dear," the tea pot reminded, smiling up at the young woman. "I'm the house keeper and cook of the castle."

"And I'm Madame the dress maker of the castle," the wardrobe chimed in, looking down at the young guests.

Belle accepted the tea and picked up the small cup. Her stomach growled, but she just blew on it and turned to her daughter. "Drink this up now. It'll make you feel better, but careful it's a little hot."

"Don't you…" another coughing fit interpreted her. Her voice was barely audible as she asked, "You want some, Mamam?"

Belle shook her head. "Non, Chantal, drink it up now."

Chantal drank and Mrs. Potts poured another cup of tea when she was done. The child raised the cup again, but Chip asked if she wanted to see a trick. He took a deep breath and made the tea inside the up biol. Chantal smiled at the trick while Mrs. Potts scolded her son.

Belle smiled and said, "It's all right, Mrs. Potts."

"Oh that's very sweet of you, dear, but Chip knows not to do that," Mrs. Potts said, though a small smile formed on her own lips too. Looking back at the young woman, she continued, "And that was a very brave thing you did with the master."

"We all think so," Madame added softly.

Chantal looked at her mother confused. "What do they mean?"

"Your mother and you staying here. It was brave," Chip said, looking up at her.

"Oh," Chantal said. "Is that true? Was it brave, Mamam?"

Belle nodded slightly, but her heart began to beat faster. Was it brave if she was terrified of their captor? Was it brave that she 'left' her husband? She looked down at Chantal and sighed. How were they going to survive? Again, she imagined those fierce blue eyes glinting out of the shadows, able to see straight through a person. Unconsciously, her grip tightened around Chantal, stroking her hair.

Down on the floor, Mrs. Potts looks up at them and smiles. "Now then you two cheer up. Everything works out in the end right? And don't be worrying about the master, he's-"

"A monster," Chantal cried.

"Oh now that's a little harsh isn't it?" Mrs. Potts said gently.

"No, he's…he's…" Chantal's voice trails off as she began to cry.

Belle wrapped her arms around the child and stoked her hair, whispering soothing words into her ear. She felt the eyes of the wardrobe and tea pot upon her, but she ignored them. They had called her act brave, but did they know how it felt to give up everything, hopes and dreams to be stuck in a nightmare. Belle closed her eyes and remembered back to her father announcing her engagement to Gaston. She had agreed willing to marry him, but over the years she had lost her childhood innocence and dreams. Now, her only dream was about the child in her arms: raising her and keeping the family together, including her father. Despite Gaston's cruelty, she had made a promise before God and the church to be with him till death parted them. Was accepting an invitation, even if she had no choice, being unfaithful to him? Again, she glances over her shoulder at the falling snow and shivered. How long would it take Gaston to find them if the snow covered their tracks? Until then, what could she or Chantal do to survive living here?

"Is everything all right, dear?" Mrs. Potts asked.

Belle blinked and looked down at the tea pot. "Yes, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"It's just…this room isn't that much warmer than the…urgh…other place," Belle said softly.

Mrs. Potts nodded. "Yes, well I'll have more blankets brought up after I help prepare for dinner." She chuckles lightly. "Which I should be doing right now. Come on, Chip."

Without another word, the trio of china hopped out of the room. Belle watched them go and gently laid Chantal back onto the bed and kissed her forehead. In the back of her mind, the word dinner kept nagging at her. She had almost forgotten the creature's order for her to dine with him. Belle sighed as she looked down at her sleeping daughter. How could she leave Chantal alone and go to dinner? If only she could be in two places at once. Again, she imagines those icy eyes that glinted from within the shadows and she shivered. She could not afford for the monster to become angry and harm Chantal. What could she do?

"Oh now, there's a surprise, the master inviting you to dinner," Madame said, smiling.

Belle blinked looked over at the wardrobe and placed a finger to her lips, gesturing to the sleeping child. The wardrobe shut her mouth and slowly moved away from the bed back toward the door as Belle followed.

"What did you want?" Belle asked softly.

Madame smiled, opened one of her doors, and pulled out a pink gown. "You'll look wonderful in this dress, Madame."

Belle reached forward, her fingers running over the fabric. It was cool cotton with folds to give the illusion of layers. She saw the pale pink was only on the folds and hem of the gown, but the rest was a darker shade of pink. Belle felt herself blush as the wardrobe began softly to compliment her on how wonderful the gown would look on her. For a moment, Belle ran her fingers along her cool, pale cheek. How would the pink fabric contrast her white skin?

"So you will be dining with the master tonight," the wardrobe said, still admiring the gown.

Belle glanced over at Chantal before she felt herself nod. How could she refuse him and make him angry. Who knew what temper the monster possessed when disobeyed? Unconsciously, she began to rub her sore shoulder as she remembered the claws which ripped her away from her daughter. Closing her eyes, she remembered a few outrages from her husband. She imagined the monster being a million times worse and what about Chantal? Taking a deep breath, she took the gown and moved over to screened off section of the room and began to change. The fabric felt cool against her skin as she fingered it again. A faint lingering pain in her shoulder caused her to wince and she rubbed it gingerly. She imagined the beast didn't mean to hurt her, but the pain was still there. Carefully, she finished pulling the gown on. The wardrobe had just finished fastening the back of the gown when a knock came at the door. Belle spun around as a brown clock entered the room.

He cleared his throat and said, "Dinner is served."

Belle felt the blood drain from her face. Somehow she had thought she had more time to prepare herself. The clock looked over at her expediently, but said nothing else. Behind her, the wardrobe gave Belle a gentle nudge forward and Belle barely had time to keep her balance. She walked back over to the bed and roused Chantal quietly. The child blinked and looked at her mother, confusion etched on her face.

"Listen, Chantal, I must go to dinner, but I will be back soon," Belle said softly.

Chantal yawned and coughed, but asked, "Can't I come with you?"

Belle shook her head, fear running through her veins. The order had been for her to come to dinner alone and she would not put Chantal in any unnecessary danger. Stroking her hair, she said, "Non,ma chère, not tonight and you need your rest. I'll be back as soon as I can be."

"But Mamam-"

"Non, Chantal," Belle took a deep breath. "I'll be back as soon as possible. Please be a good girl and do this for me."

Chantal pouted, but nodded. "You promise you'll be back."

Belle smiled. "Oui, Sweetie. Now go back to sleep."

Chantal sighed and rolled over onto her other side. Belle watched her for a moment before she turned and stood up. She looked down at the clock and asked, "Where do I go?"

"Follow me, Madame," the clock said formally.

Belle began to follow, but paused and looked over at the wardrobe. "Please watch out for Chantal when I'm gone."

"Of course, the little one will be safe with me," the wardrobe said softly.

A small smile of gratitude formed on Belle lips as she looked at the wardrobe. A light harsh cry bounced off the walls as the clock turned around to face her. Belle bite her lip, adjusted her sleeves, wincing, before following the clock and disappearing down the long corridor.

**Well I hope this chapter was worth the wait. And yes Belle is actaully going to dinner with the beast. I hope enjoyed it. Please review and again for any mistakes I may have missed in BETAing this chapter. Please review and more will come soon. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys I'm back and I'm so, so,so,so,so sorroy for the delay. Life unexpectedly got in the way with my missing two weeks of school so now I have to catch up with that too. However, I did want to give you guys something because you have waited so long. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Always I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. I wish to thank my BETAer Trudirose who is wonderful. And now onto the chapter. **

Fire crackled gently in the hearth as the beast paced before it. The longer he waited for the woman to arrive, the more impatient he grew. How long did he have to wait for the young madame? A low growl of irritation vibrated in the back of his throat. It still didn't seem possible that the young woman was married. Now, at the servants' suggestion, he was waiting to have dinner with her. What good did they think would come from it? The woman surely had a loving husband back home or was a widow. How could she ever have feelings for him? He paused and looked down at his rough fur and sharp claws and shook his head. No, the woman could never love a monster like him. Above him upon the mantle of the fire place, Lumiere and Mrs. Potts began to talk again about dinner and the young madame who was to come.

In frustration, the beast growled, "Where is she? I told her to come down!" He turned on the objects set upon the mantel. "Why isn't she here yet?"

The objects jumped at the sudden outburst, but said nothing. What else could they say to keep the master calm? They didn't know the young woman any better than he did, but she was their last chance to break the curse. What choice did any of them have, but to go and pray that the girl and the master would fall in love, despite her married state and his inhuman one? Lumiere and Mrs. Potts exchanged uneasy glances at each other.

Softly, Mrs. Potts said, "Master, please relax, I'm certain she will be here soon."

"How soon?" the beast asked, glaring up at the tea pot.

"Soon, please be patient. The young madame has yet to learn how things work here. And she has the child to think about. The poor thing was so weak when I went and delivered tea with shivers and all. God bless her little body," Mrs. Potts said gently.

"The child is more important than our dinner?" the beast growled, baring his teeth at the tea pot.

"Oh non, master, that is not what we are saying. The young madame will be here soon and you don't want her to see you in such a state. Be patient, sire," Lumiere said gently, gesturing with his candle arms to keep calm.

The beast narrowed his eyes and began to pace. "Be patient" - that was a concept he was never good at, even as a child. His tutors kept telling him the same, but he could never stand still for long. Now this young woman was making him wait. His claws slid across the floor silently and he growled low in his throat.

Lumiere cleared his throat. The beast's ears immediately perked up as he looked up at the servants.

"What is it?" the beast asked.

Lumiere rotated his candle arms nervously. "Well, master, have you thought about the possibility of the woman-"

"Of course I have!" the beast growled, baring his teeth at the candelabra. Then he lowered his voice as he muttered, "I'm not a fool, but…" He raised his voice and looked down at his large paws. "Look at me. She's so beautiful and I'm….and the child?"

_What am I to do with that…child?_ _A married woman will never want me_, he thought to himself. He cursed the whole situation. Despite his animal form, he had some morals, and seducing a married woman and a mother went against them. Yet, how else was he going to break the spell? He shook his head and ran his paw through his thick fur. The woman was first person to find the castle in ten years and he only had about a year and a half left to become human again. He stared into the fire and cursed silently.

The feminine voice of Mrs. Potts broke into his thoughts and he looked up at the servants again impatiently. "What now?" he snapped.

Mrs. Potts blinked and looked over at the master. "Oh, I was only saying that you must help the girl look past your looks, sire. Get her to see you as the person inside."

The beast rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know how to do that."

Mrs. Potts pouted and hopped down from the mantle and over to the table. "Well you can start by making yourself more presentable. Straighten up and act like a gentleman, like your father."

The beast bit back a laugh. He barely saw his parents and neither had taught him. His only practice as a gentleman had been at the royal balls, at which he had mimicked any of the nobility that he saw. With regard to women, he had little to no experience with the opposite gender. He blinked as Lumiere's advice floated to his ears.

"Oui, and give her a smile when she enters the room," Lumiere said, now hopping over to the table too. "It will surely calm her nerves."

The beast nodded, but his mind swirled as more and more advice was thrust upon him. Both the servants' voices blurred into one as the beast placed his paws over his ears and growled in frustration. Why did they both have to start coming on him at once? He pressed his paws harder against his ears, but the servants' last piece of advice come through crystal clear. "Keep your temper under control!"

The beast opened his mouth to roar at them, but the sound of the door rattling startled him. All three of them turned in surprise. Silence heavy with anticipation hung in the air as their eyes flew to the door. No one dared say a word or move as the door opened, the rusty iron breaking the silence. Slowly Cogsworth walked through the door…alone. The beast growled and took a step closer toward the clock.

"Well…where is she?"

The clock blinked and then bowed. "Oh, yes, the girl is here. May I present Madame De…." His voice trailed off as the beast narrowed his eyes. Clearing his throat, Cogsworth mumbled an apology as he pushed the door open further, peeked into the darkened corridor, and gestured in a forward motion.

The beast watched, his heart quickening. All that time spent in irritation awaiting her arrival vanished and caused him to feel more of a coward. His sensitive hearing heard the pad of light footsteps as the young woman slid into the doorway. Yet, she kept to the shadows and he only saw her body outline. Inwardly, the beast chuckled at the irony as he remembered her request in the dungeon on their first meeting: now it was he who wished she would step into the light so he could see her properly. He glanced at Cogsworth, who was trying to get the girl into the room, but still the woman did not move. Irritation crept into the beast's mind again and he he took a step closer.

"Come in," he commanded in a growl.

Still, the girl did not come or answer.

Lumiere whispered some advice. "Perhaps she just needs a little encouragement."

"A real offer to come in," Mrs. Potts chimed in gently.

The beast huffed and looked at the door. He opened his mouth, but paused as the girl took a few steps forward and slid completely into the room. Instantly, the beast's eyes grew wide as they scanned the young woman's body. Her brown hair flowed around her shoulders. She had donned a gown of pink, contrasting with her pale complexion. The bodice was a darker shade until it reached her waist and faded into a softer pink. The sleeves reached to her elbows and the fabric cuffs hung gracefully around her arms. She held her hands behind her back, but forced herself to stare straight in front of her at him. It didn't seem possible, but she looked even prettier than before. Shaking his head, the beast blinked and began to straighten himself to full height. Instantly, the girl dropped her eyes onto the ground, but she never retreated from the room.

The beast blinked again, an uneasy silence falling over the room until Lumiere broke it. He hopped off the table and said, "Ah good evening, Madame. I trust that you and the child are feeling better."

The woman nodded shortly. Her voice was small and polite as she addressed the candelabra. "Oui, thank you."

Lumiere nodded and glanced back at the master. "Come my dear, it is time for dinner."

The woman looked over at the empty table. Her eyes scanned the room ad fall upon a door, which seemed to lead to the kitchen. Slowly, she started to walk toward it, but Mrs. Potts hopped over to her. "Where are you going, dear?"

"To cook the dinner," the woman said softly.

"Non, my dear, you and the master will be served! Lumiere and I will see to the dinner. Now take a seat and dinner will be here in a minute."

The two servants slipped from the room. Silence fell over the room as the beast stared at the woman. Awkwardly, he took a step back and waved his paw loosely in the direction of a chair.

"Won't you…uh…sit down?" the beast asked.

The woman obeyed instantly and mumbled a soft "Yes, thank you."

As they sat down more awkward silence followed. The beast watched the young woman intently. Her facial expression was solemn and she kept her eyes fixed on the empty table in front of her. She held herself very straight and proper, her muscles tense. Her hands were placed upon her lap and she said nothing. Inwardly, the beast sighed in frustration at a loss for words. He recalled their conversation as he had led her and the child to their new room. That had been a disaster. _How_ _can I_…. His thoughts trailed off as he heard a sound from her. His head snapped up to look at the woman.

"What...did you say?" the beast asked.

Slowly, the woman raised her eyes and said, "I….I wanted to thank you."

The beast's eyes narrowed in confusion. "For what?"

"For….allowing my father to go home and for me to keep Chantal with me," she said softly.

The beast paused for a moment. "You're welcome….Madame." After a moment, he continued. "So….what is your life like?"

The woman's head shot up in surprise before she lowered her eyes back onto the table. "I…I'm not sure how to respond. My life is very dull, my lord."

"Beast."

The woman blinked and looked back up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"You may call me Beast. 'My lord' seems too proper," the beast said. Inwardly, he chuckled at the very notion of the title. Except for the servants, it seemed strange to hear any formal title spoken to address him. After a moment, he looked over at the woman again. "And you, Madame, what is your name?"

"Oh." the woman let out a small laugh. "Forgive me, my name is Belle….just Belle."

Belle. Beauty….it fit so well despite her pale and scared complexion. And she had not given a surname. Was her husband deceased? Was that why she had been so willing to become his prisoner? The beast felt his hopes rise a little. Maybe he could win a widow's heart. And now it was easy to forget her material status as he watched her from across the table. She held herself like a noblewoman and she spoke most formally.

He tried again to converse with her. "I….trust the room was to your liking?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, thank you again. It is splendid; I have never had such a large room before."

The beast felt the corner of his lips curling up into a smile. But the woman seemed to draw back at the sight, and he let the smile drop. It had been so long since he smiled, it seemed he was out of practice. He opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by the servants entering with the dishes. He gulped uneasily as he stared down at the silverware and other fine food. Sweat dripped and clung to his fur as he ran his tongue behind his teeth. He could still taste the blood from his last meal. The flesh from the animal had tasted bitter in his mouth, but he could not eat normal food anymore. He growled, narrowing his eyes at the feast laid out before him and the woman. Belle shrank back, fear etched onto her face. Her hands twisted around on the silverware nervously.

"Is…something wrong?" Belle asked.

The beast said nothing. In the firelight, the golden wedding band shone gently. How could he have been so stupid? She was a married woman and a mother and nothing he did could change that. He stared at the small band in frustration and growled as she lowered her eyes onto the table, a move that irritated him. How dare she avert her eyes from him? Was he so ugly that she could not stand to look at him? Of course, she was probably comparing him to the man who had won her heart before. How could he make her see past his fur and anger as Mrs. Potts suggested? It was hopeless. The beast shook his head and stood up, shoving his chair back.

"What's wrong?" Belle asked, following his lead.

"Nothing," the beast growled. "Finish eating…I'm done for the night."

Belle nodded, uneasy. "Have….have I done something wrong, my lo-"

"I told you, don't call me that!" the beast snapped, taking a fierce step toward her.

Instantly, she rose and took a fearful step back, her eyes growing wide.

The beast sighed in frustration, seeing the terror on her face. Why did he have to lose his temper over something so small? He took a deep breath and took a step back. Instantly, he saw the young woman's body relax a bit.

_Am I that terrifying to her?_ He recalled the servants' advice and fought to keep his temper in check. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Remember how I told you this is your home now?"

The woman nodded.

"Well…I have one more rule. Whenever you are in my presence, don't wear that."

Belle's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Don't wear _that,_" he growled, gesturing to her left hand.

Slowly, Belle raised her hand and looked at the ring. It glinted in the firelight like a mark binding her to her husband. Confusion clouded her face as she glanced back over at the beast. Her voice was a whisper as she asked, "Why?"

"What?" the beast asked. How dare she question his law! Another low growl rumbled in his throat as he forced himself to remain calm. His fingers curled into fists as he stared at her. She fiddled the ring on her finger nervously before she looked back up at him.

She gulped, but her voice grew stronger as she repeated. "Why can't I wear-"

"You are staying here and you will follow my orders!" the beast said, his voice rising in frustration.

Again, Belle shrunk back from him. Her hands folded behind her back, covering the ring with her right hand. Her eyes, filled with terror, caused him to remember his animal form. He took a deep breath and glanced over at her. "I'm…I…apologize," he said haltingly, struggling to remember long-unused politeness. "But please don't wear that."

Belle opened her mouth, closed it, and nodded. The beast should have been satisfied by her acquiescence, but her obvious fear of him didn't bode well for any chance of breaking the spell. Was she so afraid of him? How could everything go so wrong? His ears pricked up at the sound of her feet moving back. Once more, Belle folded her hands behind her back with her eyes lowered onto the ground. The beast felt his blood boil at the action. Fighting back the instinct to roar, he asked, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Belle asked, looking up at him again.

"Why do you keep looking away from me unless I ask a question?" the beast asked.

Belle bit her lip as her hands fiddled together nervously. "I….I don't mean to upset you. And staring is rude."

The beast chuckled darkly. Staring was rude - that was her excuse. Did she take him for a fool? More likely she couldn't bear the sight of him. He saw it in her eyes, the terror and anxiety. No doubt wanting to be with her damned child. The child she and her beautiful human husband had created together. He shook his head at the idea and looked back into the fire. There was no way the dinner would lead to anything tonight. A low growl of irritation and defeat rumbled low in his throat.

After a moment, he glanced over at her and said, "You may go. Have a good night, madame."

Belle froze for a moment, confusion etched onto her face. The beast turned away from her and waved his right paw toward the door. He listened as the woman's footsteps faded from the room without a word from her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lumiere and Mrs. Potts peeking out from the kitchen. Both servants seemed to be at a loss as what to say. The beast turned and dashed out of the room toward his private chambers.

He flung open the door and threw a table out of the way. A cold breeze blew in from the balcony, but he ignored it, his mind racing. Why had he been so stupid? How could dinner with the young woman change anything? Closing his eyes, he still saw the woman's terrified gaze staring back at him. He had tried to follow Lumiere and Mrs. Potts's advice, tried to be polite and not lose his temper, and for what? The woman had spent the entire time averting her eyes from his hideous animal form and barely said anything. He had only tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't corporate. Damn her, she was so infuriating! He stalked back toward the balcony and cursed silently.

"Does she only want her damned husband?" he mumbled to himself. He could never be her husband in looks or an affectionate lover. Shaking his head, he glanced over at the enchanted rose. A single petal fell onto the table and he shivered. In frustration, he grabbed the mirror and stared at his reflection. His voice came out in a growl as he commanded, "Show me the woman."

The mirror flashed green and showed a dark bedchamber. The young woman sat on the edge of the bed staring down at the child. She brushed some dark hair from the child's forehead and sighed. Her hands trembled as she raised her left hand. She bit her lip, looking down at the ring upon her hand and then back at the child.

A soft voice spoke up from the darkness. "How was the dinner?"

The woman paused, thinking. After a moment, she said, "I…It was…." She paused and looked down at the damned ring again. "It was…interesting. How was Chantal? Did she wake up or ask for anything?"

The beast looked away from the mirror. Was the child always going to be more important to the young woman? He had never seen a real mother and child relationship. Images of his own mother flashed through his mind. He had barely known the woman who held the title of his mother. She and his father were too busy with matters of state to attend to their own son. He had been left in the sole care of Mrs. Potts. While she had taken him under her wing, there is no one who can replace a mother's real love - a love the young woman clearly held for her daughter. The beast paused. Was he jealous of the love the child's mother showed, because his own mother had not shown it to him? He almost laughed at the idea. No, he had never known a mother's love, why should he care about it now? The important thing was to break the spell. Yet, closing his eyes again, he saw those brown eyes filled with terror. He ran his paw through fur and sighed.

"It's…hopeless," the beast mumbled as he set the mirror down on the table.

What was the point of forcing the young woman to love him? It was clear she was in love with her husband and child. How could he compete with them? What could he give her or do to change her heart when it belonged to another? He turned and watched the snow fall outside, burying the grounds and his hopes.

**Please review this chapter. What did you think of the interaction between Belle and the beast at dinner? The issue with the ring was mainly for beast inner conflict. In the movie and in my mind, he may be a monster and selfish, but he does seem to have some morals. And I can't imagine him trying to take a married woman and the ring is a constan reminder for him of that fact. So I hope that makes sense. Please review and I hope to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Thank you. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, here's the real chapter ten. I'm sorrry it took so long. Lif got in the way and then my BETAer had to edit it. So again I'm sorry for the delay. I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists. I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

_She stared into those cool blue eyes, her heart pounding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father sitting in a pew, gazing at her with a smile. No, she did not want this - she was barely older than a child! Her left hand rose as the priest spoke the final words which would connect them forever. A shiver ran down her spine as the cool, gold band was slid onto her finger. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared down the ring; it flashed as though caught in firelight. Once more, she turned to look att her father. His hair had turned gray with age and his pale, terrified face stared back at her. His whole body shook as he pointed over her shoulder. She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she glanced over her shoulder. Gaston's face gazed back at her before it began to twist and change. Shock and confusion pulsed through her body as the castle's lord…no, beast stood before her. His fierce blue eyes scanned her body as he took a step toward her. _

_Run! I must run, she said to herself. Yet something kept her frozen to the ground. The beast reached out and grabbed her wrist, his claws cutting into her skin; warm blood ran down her arm as she stared up at the creature. Her mind scolded her to fight back, but still something kept her from fighting. _

_With his other paw, the beast began to remove the ring from her slender finger. His voice came out in a whispered growl. "Never wear that in my presence."_

_He released her and threw the ring into a black void. Belle cast her eyes onto the floor and gasped. Beside the creature, she saw Chantal appear. The child's eyes were wide as she shivered and coughed as blood ran down her arm from her old scar. Belle reached for her daughter, but something held her back. Twice, she tried to touch the child, but still something kept them apart. The beast spoke again, and this time his voice mixed with her husband's. "Keep her out of sight, the little brat." His voice grew softer, but still firm as he spoke. "Do you understand me, my little wife?"_

_Bell felt herself nod. The strange creature smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, possessively. He reached out and caressed her cheek roughly as he stared down at her. She tried to look away, but something kept her still._

Belle willed herself to awaken from the nightmare, blinking as she returned to consciousness. Dull sunlight filtered through the glass window as she opened her eyes and sat up, mindful of the slumbering child beside her. For a moment, panic filled her as she looked at the unfamiliar chamber. Yet a moment later she remembered the promise she had made for her father and the strange castle where she was now to live.

The fancy chamber seemed less frightening than it had the previous night. As she looked around the sunlit room, she found she could almost call it cozy. Her eyes settled on the dozing wardrobe in the far corner near the door. A small smile of gratitude formed on Belle's lips for Madame watching over Chantal when she had gone to dinner. _Dinner_ - the word echoed in her mind as she remembered the events that had unfolded between herself and the creature. Shaking her head, she pushed those thoughts away as she turned her attention back to the child next to her. Asleep, Chantal looked so peaceful and fragile. Her cheeks were pale and her brown hair unkempt, but she wore a smile on her lips. It would be impossible to know how much the child suffered with her father. Belle shivered as images of the beast's fierce eyes from her nightmare returning; they were the same as Gaston's cold eyes that never showed any warmth to his only surviving child. Her heart began to race and she turned to her daughter, pressing her hand to her warm forehead. _At least the fever has lowered, _Belle thought to herself, a small sigh of relief escaping her as she leaned down and kissed her daughter's head. The child shifted in her sleep, but did not stir.

Gradually, Belle slipped out of bed and walked over to the window. Fresh blankets of snow covered the castle grounds and she strained to see beyond, but there was only dense forest. Sighing, she laid her hand against the cool glass, her eye falling on her wedding band as it caught the sun's light. She remembered the beast's demand at dinner about the ring. How could she remove the ring? It was the symbol of her marriage and her duty to Chantal's father. Even going to dinner last evening had felt like a form of betrayal to her husband. Yet she did not want to upset the lord of the castle with her girlish beliefs on marriage. What was she going to do?

Something moved behind her and she spun around to see Madame wobbling toward her. "Is everything all right?" Madame asked softly, looking at the young woman.

Belle nodded, but fingered the ring uncertainly. "Yes, and again thank you for watching Chantal last night."

"Oh it wasn't a problem, dearie, the little thing went right to sleep soon after you left. And how was dinner last night?"

"It was…interesting."

"Can you be a little more detailed? I don't get a lot of news up here, so the more details the better," Madame said, chuckling lightly.

Belle opened her mouth, but another voice cut her off. "Maman?"

Belle ran over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. Her fingers brushed the child's hair from her face as she said, "What is it, ma cherie?"

"I'm cold," Chantal said softly.

Belle looked over at Madame. "Is there anywhere we can go that will be warmer?"

Madame shook her head, but said, "I'll call Mrs. Potts to bring up some tea and soup."

Belle nodded. "Thank you." She looked back at her daughter. "You'll have tea and soup soon. Is there anything…" Her voice trailed off as Chantal coughed. Patting her back, Belle whispered, "It'll be all right, Chantal."

The child nodded and hugged her mother. "Maman, can we leave here? I want to get back to Papa, oh," she shuddered, "he'll be so mad."

"Shh, Chantal, calm down. Don't worry about your papa right now." Belle sighed and stroked her daughter's hair. She had made a deal to remain in the castle forever and she could not even think about allowing her daughter to return to her father. After a moment, an idea formed and she looked down at Chantal again. Pretending to think, she said, "Besides, how shall we escape from here, hm? We can't leave just like that."

"We can build something to help us," Chantal said.

"Oh, like what?" Belle asked.

Soon, Chantal began to ramble on about an invention using the curtains, woods, and other materials to help. The invention sounded like a catapult which they could use to fly over the large iron gates. Belle smiled half-heartedly as she listened to her daughter describe the invention. In many ways, Chantal reminded her of her father, with her lavish descriptions of crazy inventions that mostly never worked. And yet, Chantal's words of wishing to return to her father made Belle's stomach twist. Half of her wished along with Chantal that Gaston would arrive and save them, but another part welcomed the semi-freedom away from him. In the past when Chantal had been sick, Gaston had resented the extra time and attention Belle gave the child, and insisted Belle cater to him instead.. Now, Belle could give Chantal her undivided attention when she needed it most. Another coughing fit brought her back to reality and she turned her full attention back to Chantal, trying to break the fever.

Moonlight had risen into the sky by the time Chantal felt better. The fever had broken around noon, but Mrs. Potts had insisted that Chantal remain under the covers for a few more hours to recover. There had been no sign of the beast for the whole day, and for that Belle was grateful as she rocked and sang to her child, allowing all other thoughts to drift away. As she finished her song, she heard Chantal's stomach rumble and she smiled. 'I think someone is hungry. What do you say?" Belle asked.

Chantal nodded. "Can we go get something to eat?"

"Oui, of course, Chantal. Come on," Belle said, hopping off the bed and walking over to the door.

Opening the door a crack, she peeked out into the empty corridor lit by starlight. Somehow it felt wrong to explore the castle when their meals had been delivered by the servants. Yet, the late hour probably meant everyone was asleep and she could not wake them. If she could find the kitchen, she could prepare a meal by herself without causing any unnecessary work for the servants. Belle glanced over her shoulder and saw Chantal walking toward her. Belle took her hand and led her out of the room, shutting the door quieting behind her.

Their footsteps echoed down the long empty dark corridors. No candles lit the passages and twice Belle felt lost. It was a maze as she tried to remember the way to the dining room from the night before. Now, in the dark, everything looked different and strange. She only prayed that she would not stumble into the West Wing by mistake. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered his anger over a ring. How angry would he be if she ever broke one of his known rules? Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on Chantal's hand as they descended another staircase. A faint mumble of voices sounded from a room further down on the right.

"Is there food?" Chantal asked, looking up at her mother.

"Yes, I….Chantal, wait!" Belle cried as the child ran ahead of her. She watched the child burst through the doors and hurried to follow her. Entering the room, she saw Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and a few other humanized objects around the room. A fire blazed in the hearth casting the kitchen into a warm, cozy glow. Every pair of eyes was staring at them. Belle felt her cheeks grow hot at the unwanted attention.

Shaking her head, Belle reached out for Chantal and said, "I'm sorry if I disturbed you and-"

"Oh nonsense, child, we were just talking that's all," Mrs. Potts said, smiling at her. The teapot looked up at Chantal. "And I'm glad to see you up and about."

"Where's teacup?" Chantal paused and giggled softly. "I mean Chip?"

"Asleep with his brothers, but you can see him tomorrow," Mrs. Potts said.

Chantal clapped her hands, but Cogsworth stepped forward with a frown of disapproval. "Yes, asleep, which is where you should be. Not up and about listening in on-"

"Oh, Cogsworth, be reasonable. I'm sure the young madame has an explanation," Lumiere said, waving his comrade off with his candle arms.

Again, Belle felt herself blushing as she kneeled down beside the candelabra. "I'm sorry. It's just that Chantal is hungry and neither of us have had much food in the past two days."

"Well, you did have a three-course dinner with the master just last night," Cogsworth pointed out, slightly offended at the inadvertent suggestion that they had not served their guests well. .

Belle bit her lip. How much did the servants know about the exchange that had taken place between her and their master? She glanced over at Chantal and took her small hand in hers. Chantal, at least, needed something heartier to eat if she was to beat the illness.

Taking a deep breath, she looked back at the clock and said hastily, "Yes, and I'm grateful! But Chantal needs to eat. I can even make it myself, you don't need to go to any trouble—"

"Oh, non, Madame, of course we shall get a meal prepared for the young mademoiselle," Lumiere said, hopping over another door. He gestured at Chantal. "Come with me to the dining room, ma petite, your dinner awaits!" he said gallantly.

Chantal looked at her mother uncertainly. Belle squeezed her small hand in reassurance and nodded, kissing the top of her daughter's head. "It's all right, Chantal. Go with him."

The child looked back and forth between her mother and the candelabra once more before hurrying off to the next room. Belle waited until the door was closed before she stood up and walked over to the counter. Her eyes scanned the area for any source of food like bread or meat. Yet, the counter was empty. Turning around, she asked, "Mrs. Potts, where is the bread?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that dear," Mrs. Potts assured her. "We'll have the meal ready soon."

Belle paused and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "I…Mrs. Potts, I don't mean to be rude. I'm sure your cooking is excellent, but would it be all right…" She paused and looked away from the teapot. "If…I make the meal?"

"But…why?…You are our guests, Madame," Lumiere said from the doorway.

Belle bit her lip and looked down at the table. It was hard for her to explain, or even understand herself, why she felt this way. After years of a marriage in which she was expected to cook every meal with her own hands, and reprimanded if anything was less than perfect, she felt somehow anxious at the idea of being waited on. She could almost hear Gaston's voice in her mind scornfully telling her that this was a woman's job, and chiding her for being lazy and useless. She was _supposed _to be cooking.

Seeing her anxiety, Mrs. Potts said gently, "I'm sure that would be fine, but don't you want to be with Chantal now?"

Belle nodded, but added, "But I need to do something. My hands feel strange if they are not preparing something."

"Are you suggesting that my masterpieces are not worth eating?" a loud, male voice asked from behind her.

Spinning around, Belle bit back a gasp as she saw a large oven glaring at her. Belle gulped and fought to find her voice. Taking a deep breath, she dipped into a curtsy and said, "I meant no offense to you, Monsieur. Your meal from the other night was indeed wonderful. I only wanted to cook something," The chef rolled his eyes and she added quickly, "I thought no one would be up now and I did not want to wake anyone up."

The chef huffed and looked away from the young woman. Mrs. Potts shook her head and hopped closer to the oven. "Oh come now, Chef Moreau, the girl means no disrespect to you and it will only be this once."

Belle nodded fiercely. "Only this once, I promise Monsieur."

Chef Moreau gestured over to another counter where two loaves of bread lay spread across the table. Belle politely thanked him and set about preparing a meal while the servants watched. The young woman moved with ease in a kitchen atmosphere without much effect. None of them understood the need for her to cook the meal herself, but what could they do?

Half an hour later, all of them stood around the large oak table. Belle set the bowls of soup and a plate of bread down in front of the servants. Lumiere blinked and looked over at her as she sat down.

Hopping over, he bowed. "Madame, thank you for the treats, but….it would be most improper for a-"

"Oh, Lumiere, don't sugarcoat things," Cogsworth said and looked at Belle. "We cannot eat proper food."

Belle paused and set the bowl aside. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't even think about that! I just wanted to thank you for the allowing me to cook the meal and for keeping you up."

Mrs. Potts smiled. "That's very thoughtful of you, dear, and we do thank you even though we cannot accept it."

Belle nodded and glanced over at Chantal. Her pale face was regaining color with her appetite. She smiled and took a spoonful of her own soup. For a few minutes, none of them spoke, a strange comfortable silence surrounding the group as the two humans eat their meal. After a moment, Lumiere cleared his throat and hopped over to Belle. "Madame, I hope you don't think this to forward, but why did you need to cook dinner? We servants wish to serve, allowing us to use our skills. So why did you want to do it yourself?"

Belle opened her mother, but Chantal answered, "Maman always makes the meals or else…"

Belle paled; the unspoken words about Gaston hanging in the air between mother and daughter.

"Or else what?" Lumiere asked.

"Papa gets mad," Chantal whispered, her brown eyes growing wide as though remembering.

Belle reached out and rubbed her daughter's wrist, offering a small half-hearted smile. Closing her eyes, she sighed. How much had Chantal witnessed between her and her father? She had done everything to keep her daughter away from her father's anger, no matter small. No child deserved to have her father who got angry and blamed his child for her 'laziness'. Opening her eyes, she took another sip of the soup, her eyes downcast.

Mrs. Potts looked between mother and child before hopping over to Chantal.

"So, what do you like to do, child?" Mrs. Potts asked.

Chantal pressed her lips together and looked over at her mother. Belle smiled and nodded to her. A faint smile formed on her pale face as she faced the teapot again. "I like inventions."

"Inventions?" Mrs. Potts asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

The smile grew on the child's face. "Oui, I love making things to help others. I made Maman something to help with hanging up the laundry once. I help my grand…." Her voice trailed off as she lowered her eyes onto the table. Another wave of silence fell around the room, but now thick with uncertainty. Belle gulped; the weight of her actions and their impact on her daughter seemed to come back. Neither of them would see Maurice again and it was her own impulsive fault. She sighed and looked down at the ring upon her finger, twisting it uneasily.

"Maman!" Chantal said, a smile on her face. "The candle says some of those things you read are about inventions. He says they have some in the liberry.."

"Library," Lumiere corrected gently. "And oui, there are books on all sorts of things in there. Would you like to come and see?"

A library. That word echoed in Belle's mind as she stared at the candelabra. She tried to remember the last time she had opened a book, had felt the pages in her hands. An image of the good bookshop from the village crept into her mind and she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

Shaking her head, she said, "Merci, but I think we must be getting back to bed.. This one seems tired, isn't that right, Chantal?"

Chantal shook her head, but a yawn escaped her. Belle smiled, pushed her chair back, walked over to her daughter and picked her up.

"Well we shall say, _bon nuit__, _Madame," Lumiere said, bowing.

"Good night, Monsieur, and thank you and thank the chef for me and I'm sorry that you were not…."

Lumiere shook his head. "Think nothing of it, Madame. You were thoughtful when you cooked for us too. Oh and would you like a tour of the castle tomorrow? If the young mademoiselle up for it."

"That would be wonderful," Belle said, smiling. "Say good night, Chantal."

"Good night," the child said sleepily.

The trio of servants wished the child a good night as mother and child slipped out of the room.

Back in their bed chamber, Belle laid Chantal back into the bed, tucking the covers around her. The meal had seemed to do her good; yet, a sense of unease still lingered in Belle's mind. Belle stroked her hair and sighed. In the darkness, she felt those cold eyes staring at her and she shivered, the beast's words from the previous evening rolling around in her mind. She did not want Chantal to suffer for her mistakes anymore. Shaking her head, she sighed and looked down at the ring. Dim starlight shone through the window and she turned, looking out into the night. In the quietness of the room, Belle whispered, "It'll be all right, Chantal. We'll make it through this."

**Well I hope you enjoyed it. I know not much happened, but there was a bit more on Chantal's character. What do you think of Chantal as a child character? And I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and there will be more soon, I promise. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi, I'm so sorry for the wait and I know the chapter is short, but I hope you enjoy. I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists. I hope you enjoy. **

"Now there is the room where the Duchess of…" Cogsworth paused and looked behind him, realizing that Chantal wasn't listening. "Is the story not interesting enough for you?" he asked her.

The young girl shook her head and clung to her mother's dress as they continued the tour. Torches lit the long corridors lined with portraits, suits of armor, and statues. Each item held a different story with regard to the castle's history. Cogsworth stuck to the facts with no extra detail, while Lumiere dove headlong into the tales of the many guests who had resided at one point in the castle. His colorful attention to detail and storytelling fascinated both mother and daughter during the tour. The late gray afternoon kept the twisted statues in shadow as the quartet walked through the corridors. Chantal kept close to her mother, but continued to ask questions about how some of the objects had been created. Cogsworth and Lumiere tried to gain the child's interest, but their lack of knowledge on these topics frustrated her.

Rounding a corner, Belle called out to the objects. "Stop, please." She turned to her daughter. "Are you all right, Chantal?"

Chantal nodded, but leaned against a wall, exhausted. Lumiere hopped over to check on the child as Cogsworth followed behind, mumbling something under his breath.

"Are you well, Mademoiselle?" Lumiere asked, looking from daughter to mother.

Belle knelt beside her daughter, checked for a fever and, finding her forehead cool, sighed in relief. Chantal looked between her mother and the candelabra, confusion in her eyes.

Her mother smiled, tucking loose hair behind her ear, and said, "It's all right, Chantal. What do you want to do?"

"I…can….can I sing?" Chantal asked. "You promised me, Maman."

Belle chuckled slightly. "Yes, I did, little one. If there is a good place for singing, of course you may."

"Oui, I believe there is such a place. Come this way, ma cherie," Lumiere said, hopping off down the hall.

"Now, wait! I thought we were doing a tour," Cogsworth protested, looking up at another portrait upon the wall.

"We shall continue the tour while we go to the music room. Now come along," Lumiere replied.

Mother and daughter followed the objects further down the corridors. Cogsworth tried to continue the tour, but Belle's mind began to wonder. The servants seemed to have been here for a long time, but did not offer an explanation on how they were able to talk and move. All the portraits and stories were of regular people who had been at the castle. Yet, now the castle was inhabited by household objects with the power of speech and movement. How was it possible? She tried to remember the stories she used to read; all of them held magic and a curse. Could this castle be under some form of enchantment? If so, was there some hope of lifting it?

_No, of course not, you're just being silly_, Belle chided herself, shaking her head.

"Maman, what's that?" Chantal asked.

Belle blinked and looked down at her daughter. "What is it, ma cherie?"

"I heard….music," Chantal cried happily, breaking away from her mother. The child ran past the clock and candelabra, but paused at the base of a large staircase; the hallway above was silent again. Confusion swept into Chantal's mind as she turned to her mother. "Did you hear the music?"

Belle knelt down beside her daughter. "Non, Chantal, are you certain you're all right?"

Chantal nodded and looked over at Lumiere. "What's up there, Monsieur?

Cogsworth answered first, "Oh nothing, . Nothing at all in the West Wing."

"The West Wing?" Chantal asked, looking up the staircase to the darkened corridor above.

Belle felt her heart skip a beat. The West Wing, the rooms forbidden by the master of the castle. Unconsciously, her hand fell upon the slight bulge beneath the fabric of her dress, hiding the ring now strung on a silver chain. Fear crawled down her spine, yet at the same time a sense of curiosity came over her. Her other hand fell on Chantal's shoulder to keep her down below. But Chantal's face shone with curiosity as she continued to stare at the forbidden place.

"What about the music room?" Belle asked, looking down at Lumiere and Cogsworth.

"Oui, now come this way. We have many different instruments for you to enjoy," Lumiere said to Chantal.

The child looked down at the candelabra. "How many?"

"Oh, many! Trumpets, flutes, lutes…" Lumiere said.

"And violins and whistles," Cogsworth added, starting to walk down the hallways again.

Once more, Belle took her daughter's hand and began to lead her away from the staircase. Lumiere and Cogsworth continued down the hall discussing the instruments that were in the main music room. Belle tried to keep up, but Chantal kept tugging her hand in the opposite direction. She tried to reason with her daughter, but Chantal would not give up the idea of finding the mysterious music she had heard.

"Chantal, please, come along," Belle said as she tried to follow the objects.

After a moment, she felt her hand close around air. Spinning around, she saw Chantal running up the staircase. Belle looked around, but Lumiere and Cogsworth had disappeared. Sighing, Belle started to run after her, but paused at the top, her hand resting upon the old wooden banister. The darkened corridor was silent as Belle held her breath. How could she disobey the master of the castle? Her nightmares from the previous night swept through her mind. She imagined those sharp claws digging into her skin and the yelling. Yet she could not let Chantal suffer if she was caught. Taking a deep breath, she turned and crept down the corridor, keeping as silent as possible.

A single torch lit the darkened hallway as Belle stepped carefully. Large statues lay dismembered, broken pottery littering the floor. For a moment, she caught sight of her reflection in a broken mirror. Her pale complexion caused her brown eyes to glow, the fear and years of worry and marriage showing in her eyes. Closing her eyes, she sighed, the weight of her marriage coming to the surface. Tears fought to escape, but she kept them at bay and continued. Double oak doors were cracked open at the end of the passage and she slipped inside.

Instantly, her nose wrinkled at the odd smell. Torn fabric and drapery hung from the walls and ceiling as she glanced around the chamber. Fascinated and repulsed, she kept looking around the room. Yet with each step she felt a shiver of fear running down her spine. She tried to call out for Chantal twice, but her voice kept catching in her throat. The notion of getting caught kept her silent as she moved further into the room. A brisk breeze blew through the chamber and she turned away as something caught her eye. Half hidden in darkness,

Belle stepped around an animal carcass and looked at the object; a portrait hanging on the wall. Similar to other items in the room, the fabric of the canvas was torn into shreds. Her eyes squinted as she reached forward, piecing together two torn segments. A pair of passive blue eyes stared back at her intensely. Her hands drew back as if they had touched fire as she remembered the master's warning. Again, she tried to call for Chantal, but paused as she heard another sound come from across the room. Off to the right, behind closed doors, she heard something vocalizing a scale.

_Chantal was right after all_, Belle thought as she crept closer. Slowly, she opened the door and peered inside. The chamber was empty, except for two torches hanging on the walls. Yet the light seemed to hold a greenish glow around the flames. Large windows stretched across the right side of the room. Strong snowflakes batted against them as the storm grew outside. Shaking her head, Belle focused her attention back on Chantal as she slipped inside the second room.

"Maman," Chantal called.

Belle spun to her left and let out a sigh. Her voice was a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the massive room. "Chantal, please come, we have to go."

Chantal shook her head. "But Maman, Monsieur Forte was just playing the scale for me."

Belle blinked and looked beyond her daughter, but saw no one there except a large organ. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Come on, Chantal, please. We need to go."

"But, Mam-"

"Now, Chantal, please," Belle said firmly.

Chantal glanced back at the organ before walking out with her mother. Closing the door, Belle felt a chill at the brisk wind from the open door to the balcony. She felt Chantal shiver beside her and she wrapped her arm around her shoulder as she began to turn toward the other door. Fear shot through her body as she saw the doors were closed. _Is the master here? We must get out of here!_ Belle's eyes darted frantically around the room, her hold on her daughter tightening as her heart beat faster. She squinted as she saw a glow near the balcony, then blinked twice as the object formed in front of her eyes. Upon a table a bell jar was placed over a beautiful rose, a bright pinkish glow shining off the glass.

Chantal opened her mouth, but Belle knelt down and signaled for her to be silent. Chantal nodded, but pointed over to the encased flower. Sighing, Belle straightened, took her hand, and cautiously walked over to the table. The closer she went, the more enchanting the rose become. Belle felt her fingers touch the cool glass, her eyes fixed upon the flower. Her mind screamed at her to leave the chamber, but something else kept her feet rooted to the spot. Carefully, she lifted the glass case and set it down upon the floor. She reached out to touch the rose as though under a spell herself.

Tiny fingers gripped her mother's dress; the child whimpering as a dark shadow passed over them. Belle let out a gasp, automatically pushing Chantal behind her, reality rushing back to her. The bell jar slammed down over the rose as the large figure loomed over her, his blue eyes fierce with rage.

**Dun, dun dun! Kind of. So please let me know what you think of the chapter. When I recently watched the movie again, I found it strange that Belle would go up the West Wing without a real reason. So I tried to work it out within the context of my story. Please let me know what you thought. Thank you and I promise the next chapter will be longer. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey Everyone I'm back with another chapter. I know you all must want to kill me for the wait and for that I'm sorry. Life and school just got in the way so again I'm sorry. Second, The second half of the chapter has not been BETAed, because I felt so bad about leaving you guys for so long, so I if there are many mistakes I'm sorry and I will try and get them fixed. Anyway, a big thanks to be BETAer for showing me how to currectly do this chapter. Anyway, onto the long over due chapter. :)**

Anger pulsed through him as he stared at the young woman and child before him. What were they doing here? How had they come in without him detecting their presence? He was just out on the balcony, listening to Forte's music. How was it possible they had slipped past his notice? The beast glanced at the bell jar before returning his attention to the woman. What was her name? It began with a B…Belle.

Straightening himself, he took a step forward and growled, "What are you doing here?"

Belle's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes lowered to the floor as she wrapped her arm around the trembling, pale child beside her.

"I…" Her voice trailed off, uncertainly.

"Why did you come here?" he asked again, taking another step toward them. His irritation grew as Belle mumbled something under her breath with her eyes still fixed upon the ground. Beside her, the child trembled in terror as she stared up at him. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he looked back at the woman.

"I told you look at me when I'm talking to you," the beast said, glaring at her.

Hesitantly, she raised her head and took a shaky breath. "I….I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to…"

The beast shook his head and glanced at the rose. The foolish woman had nearly destroyed the key to his enchantment. How could it not mean anything?

"Do you realize what you could have done?" the beast growled, turning his gaze back on Belle.

Once more, Belle lowered her eyes and took a step back, pushing her daughter behind her, protectively. Her voice trembled as she said, "I…I was only listening to…"

Chantal piped up. "It was the pretty music!"

"What music?" the beast asked, looking down at the child. Forte only played for him; what was she talking about? He glanced over at the opened door and growled. He would speak to the music composer later. Once more he heard Belle mumble something under her breath and turned back to her.

"What did you say, madame?" he snarled.

"Nothing, my lor-Beast," Belle said, her hands wringing together. "We didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to what? Disobey my direct order?" he yelled, raising his paw as if to strike her.

"Please stop!" she begged, taking a few steps back. "I'm sorry….I didn't mean any harm." Tears stung her eyes, but she kept them at bay as memories flooded through her mind. "I'm sorry…it won't happen again, Gaston….I promise."

The beast stared at her, confused. "Who are you talking about?"

Again, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out as she forced herself not to step away from him. The beast looked at her, the unfamiliar name running through his mind as he tried to place it. Who was the woman talking about? Was it her husband? Yet, her husband was not here and she was staring at him. Surely, he was more frightening than anything she had seen? He continued to stare at her, focusing on her eyes. Through the tears, her eyes seemed distant as though she was not there at all, reliving a memory.

She seemed almost haunted.

More gently, the beast asked, "Madame, who are you talking about?" He tried to soften his voice this time, but heard the growling undertone beneath his words and mentally cursed himself.

Belle blinked and lowered her eyes back onto the ground. "Oh…I'm sorry….I didn't…"

"Damn it, madame, who were you talking to just now?" the beast asked impatiently. "Someone called 'Gaston'?"

Belle hesitated, but Chantal spoke up again. "That's Papa," she said matter-of-factly. "He yells a lot, just like you."

The beast blinked and looked down at the child as she coughed again. So it was her husband the woman had spoken to. Yet he still could not fathom her terrified tone in mentioning her husband.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the realization that Belle was nervously fingering an object under her dress – something hanging from the chain around her neck. The beast's eyes narrowed at the strange action and took another step closer. Rage soared through him as the idea formed in his mind. Was she stupid enough to disobey him twice in one day? His lips curled into a snarl as he looked down at her.

"What is that? Hanging on the chain?" He gestured toward her hand.

Belle's hand dropped to her side as her eyes lowered to the floor again. "It's noth-"

"Don't lie to me, madame," he said, spitting out the last word with venom.

"Don't yell at Maman," Chantal cried, her voice hoarse.

The beast paused and glanced down the child. Her whole body was trembling, but her eyes were fierce, trying to be brave for her mother's sake. The action puzzled him; what was the strange connection between a mother and child? Why was this child standing up for her mother? Was not a mother's job to protect their children, not the other way around? His anger abating, he said to her, "So, you are the reason for this intrusion. Is that correct?"

Chantal shrank back, trembling, but tried to keep her voice even. "I….oui, the music drew me in. Maman promised me I could…."

"Could what?" The beast asked, curiously.

"Could sing….I love it."

The beast blinked and glanced back at her mother. "You promised her she could sing in my private chambers?"

Belle shook her head. "No, but she heard music from up here and I didn't think-"

"That's right. You didn't think. Now, get out of here."

Belle hesitated. "But-"

"Get out!" the beast roared, waving his paw dismissively.

Belle gulped as she grabbed her daughter's pale hand. Quickly she turned and stumbled out of the room with Chantal behind her. The beast watched them leave and shook his head. That woman was certainly a strange one, so scared of everything and yet she continued to disobey and question his orders. A small voice in his mind mentioned the notion of salvation from the curse, but he only shook it away. How could she ever love a monster like him when she could not even look at him without fear in her eyes? Why had he even allowed himself to imagine it could happen?

Turning away, he looked down at the delicate rose and stroked the glass gingerly. Inwardly, he chuckled dryly. Despite the rose's connection to his curse, he cared for it and protected it; it never showed any sign of fear for him nor did his musician/composer. His ears perked up as the first strands of music floated into the room.

_Music._ Both the mother and child had mentioned the music drawing them up here. Could it be true? Turning away from the room, he ran into the other chamber. Accustomed to the dim light, he walked over to the organ.

"Forte, did you see a child or a young woman come in here?" the beast asked.

The organ continued to play as though he had not heard the question.

"Forte, answer me!" the beast growled, irritated.

The music paused as the court composer thought. After a moment, he said diplomatically, "I was only playing the music you enjoy so much, Master. I did not ask the child or woman to come to listen. And…may I ask how they are?"

"That is none of your concern, only that they disobeyed my orders. If they ever come in here again, dismiss them immediately. Is that clear?" the beast said.

"Of course, master. But who are they?" Forte asked, curiously.

"The woman traded her place with that old man who came here two days ago and she kept the child….her daughter. The damn woman is married," the beast said.

"Really?" Forte said, almost to himself, as though turning it over in his mind. "And a daughter, too...how very interesting."

"That's just what I said. Now…" His voice trailed off as he turned around, a sudden change in the air surrounding him. Curiously, he moved back to the main chamber and froze as a harsh chill filled darkened the room.

Heavy snow had begun to fall while wind howled through the trees and ripped curtains. His thick fur rose against the chill as he stepped out onto the balcony to draw the curtains closed. Suddenly, he paused as a faint muffled sound meet his sensitive ears. The beast listened, but the sound remained unclear. Yet, he could not make himself ignore the unfamiliar sound and walked further out to the balcony. His claws dug into the rail to keep him stable as he strained his senses to hear and see through the storm. Closing his eyes, he focused and found the sound came from below him on the ground level of the castle and held a feminine timbre.

_The woman_. He mused silently and sighed in frustration. His fierce temper from earlier could have cost him his chance to become human again. Why had he allowed his temper to get the better of him? How could he hope to find someone to love him when he had the instincts of a cruel, wild animal? Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and listened again, the sound becoming clearer.

"Chan….tal!"

The beast's eyes snapped open as the word echoed in his mind. What has happened with the child? Quickly, he turned around and dashed out the West Wing and down the stairs. Out of the storm, he heard the woman's voice echoing through the passageways, allowing him to follow. He paused as he saw the massive front doors open with the woman crying out in vain into the wind.

"What has happened?" the beast asked, his voice filled with surprised concern and frustration.

Belle spun around, startled. "Oh….I turned around and then she was gone. I tried to find her, but the castle is massive?"

"Could this be a child's game?" The beast asked. He remembered much of his youth was spent hiding in vast unused areas of the castle to hide from the servants and tutors. Belle gasped and shook her head. "No….she wouldn't do that. And the door was open and…she's so sick…" Her hands began to shake as she fought to keep herself steady.

The beast nodded and peered out into the storm. Heavy snow and wind had covered any tracks the child would have made. Closing his eyes, he sniffed the air and found her scent.

"I'll go after her," He said, staring out into the empty courtyard and into the forest.

He did not bother to wait for a reply, but charged out into the dark icy storm.

The hoof prints were buried beneath the snow, but his keen animal senses began to grow as he walked and turned toward the west. The fierce wind blew around him as the storm grew worse and worse, but he kept his quick pace. Yet, his legs began to grow tired as the chase continued. How had the child gotten so far away? If she was as sick as her mother had said how had she even gotten outside? Every few minutes, he paused and listened for any distinctive sounds to guide him. Despite his exhaustion, he kept going until he heard the sound of a horse whining uncontrollably. He paused as another sound caught his attention; the howling of wolves.

Once more, he bounded forward into the scene. He saw a horse rearing, but the reins were wrapped around a low tree branch and the saddle was empty. He felt his fur bristle as he noticed the semi circle of wolves surrounding the child. In vain, she swung a branch at the group of wolves. One of them snapped at her ankle while another tore the branch from her hands. She screamed as she collapsed onto the ground, faint, as another wolf lunged at her neck.

The beast roared as he pulled the wolf away from the child. For a moment, their eyes locked through the snowy storm. The beast tossed the wolf aside and knelt down next the fragile woman; his eyes scanning her body for any real injury. Yet, the next moment, he saw the other wolves beginning to close in around them. The beast felt a low growl erupt in his throat as he lunged in front of the snow covered child and into the circle of wolves.

Sharp fangs and claws dug and ripped into his fur as he fought against the pack. His vision blurred into a scene of black and white fur and the snow falling around them. Brutal pain shot through his body, but he kept on fighting; his animal instructs taking over his actions. Finally, he felt and heard the wolves disappearing into the dark forest. Soon a numbing cold began to settle in as he stumbled toward the fallen child. Her face was pale while her eyes were glazed over though from sickness or fear the beast did not know. Despite the pain, he knelt down and picked up the fragile, shivering creature, pressing her to his chest to give her an inch of warmth.

_Why was the child out here in the first place?_ The beast asked himself as he took the horse's reins in his other hand and began to led walk back to the castle.

**Well there is it. I know it's kind of on the short side for you guys having to wait for so long, but I hope you enjoyed it. Oh and there may be a remastered version of this because I just think my writing has gotten better and that some of the characters should be changed. In your revirew please vote on weather I should remaster this story or not? And I hope you guys enjoyed it. And please REVIEW. Thank you. :) And more coming soon with summer coming up. **


	13. Chapter 13

**SHE LIVES! :) again. Yes I am back. Sorry for such the long wait. Honestly, I just found myself lost for imsperation for the story. It got to the piont where I thought of just putting up a note and handing it off to someone else. I wish to thank you for Samse and FrauThenardier latest reviews for they helped me get back into the story. And a HUGE thanks to all those who have stuck with this story from the begining, I owe so much to each of you. :) **

**Also no one BETAed this chapter except me so if there are any mistakes they are my own. I know it was mean to be a long chapter, but I could find away to expand without it seeming forced. So I hope you enjoy. :) **

Belle continually paced the length of the entrance corridor, the same questions running through her mind. Why had Chantal left? Had she gone looking for her father? Closing her eyes, she could see Chantal's pale complexion and hear her coughing. Belle shivered, her hands fumbling nervously with her necklace. She glanced anxiously back at the door. How long would it take to bring them back?

In her mind, she heard her husband's voice scolding her. _My son would have been able to track any animal in any weather, but where is my son?_ Her stomach twisted as she remembered the painful loss and she would not let that happen again.

The sound of a rolling cart broke into her thoughts as she turned and saw Mrs. Potts coming toward her.

"Would you like some tea, Madame? To help calm those nerves," Mrs. Potts asked, smiling.

Belle shook her head. "Non merci, Mrs. Potts."

Mrs. Potts gave a small encouraging smile. "Just to settle the nerves."

Belle sighed accepted the cup, and drank, the liquid felt warm on her tongue. Yet, her nerves would not be calmed as she swallowed and resumed her pacing, her fingers fiddling with the tea cup. Her gaze rose to the high windows, the stormy night sky still lingered. Another shiver ran down her spine as she listens to the howling wind banging on the glass. Once more, she closed her eyes and sighed. How could anyone find their way through such a storm? Even Gaston would not be able to track anything in this fierce weather.

As though reading her thoughts, Mrs. Potts smiled. "Now don't you worry dear, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the rest of the staff on alert to report any sights of the master and your daughter."

"Merci, Mrs. Potts, but…"

"They're coming…I just saw them!"

Belle spun around as Lumiere and Cogsworth hopped over to her. Her heart began to beat faster as those words rolled around in her mind. She stared down at the two servants. "How far away are they?"

"Just outside the gate…wait…" Cogsworth protests fell on deaf ears as she turned back, throw open the door, and ran out into the snowy courtyard.

The wind whipped her hair around her as she tried in vain to scan the area. Snow blew in her face as she charged forward calling out for her daughter and the master. Pushing her hair away, she charged forward until she heard a loud thud by the entrance. Her eyes squinted against the snow and she gasped. Philippe stood over a large dark figure clutched a smaller creature in his arms lying motionless just within the gate. The wind drowned out her scream as she ran through the snow and bent down beside the three creatures.

She whispered a pray of gratitude as she pried the claws from around the reins and shooed the horse off to the stables. Once the horse was out of sight, she turned and looked down at the two figures. Her frozen fingers ran over their necks; a sigh of relief ran through her as she felt their pulses. With a heavy breath, Belle moved over and half supported, half carried the two back toward the castle.

The snow dripped off of them as she pulled her daughter off the creature and held her in her arms, checking for any injuries. A small sigh of relief escaped her at no sign of new bruising. After a moment, she released Chantal and moved back over to the beast.

Belle looked around the servants. "Mrs. Potts, please take care of Chantal. Cogsworth where can…"

"In the parlor, come quickly." Cogsworth hurried off to the parlor.

Mrs. Potts shook her head. "My dear, what about your daughter?"

Belle glanced over her shoulder. "Some tea and bed rest should help… please Mrs. Potts….the master is losing blood."

The motherly teapot nodded as she and the other servants helped carry the shivering child into the parlor and hosted her onto one of the divan, draping a cream colored quilt over her.

Belle glanced over at the teapot and the others. "Merci, all of you. Mrs. Potts, I need some bandages."

Once more, the teapot nodded and hurried off while the other servants scurried around to help each other. Belle exhaled slowly, she had barely noticed it over the last few days, but now her bruised shoulder ached from carrying the dead weight. Yet, she ignored the pain. She took a deep breath and knelt down beside the large beast as he slumped over the armchair. Fresh blood and melting snow fell onto the floor from open wounds and his fur as she shifted his massive body over, the blood staining her hands. She bit her lip and tore her white apron and pressed it to the wounds.

Unconsciously, the beast shifted and growled in irritation, but she kept adding pressure. Behind her, she felt the warmth of the fire as some more logs were thrown in the hearth. The tension within the chamber was palpable as Belle tended to the beast. Her gaze drifted over to her daughter lying beneath the quilt; the snow dripping from her hair onto the floor as she shivered. Her small fingers curled around the rim and pulled the blanket under her chin, but she did not awaken. Belle nodded to herself, tore her eyes away, and returned her attention to the beast. What had happened to both of them? How had they found their way back?

"Here you are, Madame." Lumiere placed the rags down beside her.

"My dear, what happened?" Mrs. Potts rolled up with a steaming hot water basin.

Belle took the basin and looked down at her bloody hands. "I had to stop the bleeding somehow and thank you."

She set the damaged cloths aside and poured hot water into the basin.

A low growlish moan escaped his lips as the beast's eyes fluttered open. Lifting his head, he looked around until his gaze settled on her. "What…where's the girl?"

"Shh, it's all right. I'm just…tending your wounds." Cautiously, she pressed a cloth to his arm.

The beast roared in pain and barred his teeth at her.

Instantly, Belle pulled away and lowered her eyes to her lap. "I'm sorry…but it has be cleaned…"

The beast growled in annoyance. "I'll do it myself." He raised his arm and began lick it.

"No, my…please don't."

The beast paused and looked over at her. "Why not?"

Belle fiddled with the cloth. "It…it could get infected and that wouldn't be good. I have done this before with Chantal and other animals I would find back in my village."

The beast looked at her unconvinced before he scanned the chamber. "Where is the child?"

She pointed off to the left. "Sleeping on the divan, my l-Beast."

A tiny unnatural smile curled at the corners of his lips as though he was laughing at her near mistake. Heat rushed to her cheeks, but her gaze remained on her lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of fur moving over to her. She dared and glanced up at him, questionably.

The beast gave a reluctant nod and held his arm out to her again. "You may continue."

Belle took a deep breath and tentatively placed the wet cloth on the wound.

The beast roared and glared at her. "That hurts!"

She opened her mouth, but Chantal's cry cut her off. Belle glanced over at her daughter, but she had drifted back into slumber. Without a word, Lumiere and Mrs. Potts went over and began to tend to the child.

Belle sighed and looked back at the beast. "I'm sorry…if… you hold still it will help it go faster."

Mrs. Potts turned to them. "Please, Master, listen to her."

The beast looked down at the teapot and sighed. Without looking at either of them, he mumbled, "You had not gone into the West Wing this wouldn't have happened."

Belle glanced up. "I…already apologized for that and I meant it."

"You still disobeyed my direct order what can you say for that?"

"I can only apologize so many times…I'm sorry and I can only…." Color drained from her face as the beast lowered himself to look into her eyes. She averted her gaze and began to apologize again. She felt his reach out to touch her and she flinched away from his claws.

"Look at me." It was a simple command.

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to meet his.

"Will it hurt?"

She brought her inex finger and thumb close together. "A little."

Without a word, he nodded and held his arm out to her again.

Belle dunk the rag in the basin and wrung it out. She tucked her hair back and held up the cloth for him to see. "It may sting a little bit."

The beast nodded and closed his eyes. Belle felt a tiny smile twitch at the corners of her lips at his reaction. Despite his large and powerful size, he was acting like a child himself. Was this what it was like having a son? The ones who pretended to be so strong, but were just as scared or hurt as much as anyone else. A sharp pain twisted her stomach and tears began to prickle her eyes, but she brushed them away. For a moment, her gaze drifted over to her daughter. The pain seemed to grow the longer she looked at her little girl. _What did I do? A son would never have done this. _

A loud wince brought her back to the creature beside her. She pulled the cloth away and then gently replaced it on his arm. She opened her mouth, but shook her head.

The beast looked down at her. "What is it?"

Once more, Belle shook her head. "It's nothing….really."

The rest of the mending continued in silence with only the crackling of the flames to break it. Everyone moved in synced with the others, not getting in anybody else's way as they moved around the parlor, tending to the two injured. Belle stifled a yawn as she wrapped the last piece of cloth around the beast's arm. She gave a tiny smile and set the rest of the bandages aside. The beast wary looked down at his bandaged arms nodding in slight approval. His head began to drop, but he gave a dismissive wave to her.

Bowing her head, Belle picked with the basin and bandages and retreated from the armchair to allow him to rest. Quietly, she moved over and looked down at her slumbering daughter. Chantal's color was gone, but she slept soundly with the fever declining as she got warmer. She felt a small, pained smile form, but her stomach began to twist again as the same nagging thoughts ran through her mind.

Belle glanced over at Mrs. Potts and Lumiere. "I'll be back soon. Keep her body warm, but her head cool."

Without another word, she turned and strode out of the parlor. The dark silent corridors seemed to echo around her as she continued to walk. She just had to get away from the nagging voice in her mind. What kind of mother was she? How could she even think such things? She felt her pace quicken as she wondered through the empty passageways until she reached a large door. Pulling it open, she stared out into the empty courtyard at the side of the castle. The huge storm clouds had vanished with the first rays of dawn piercing the morning sky.

Belle swayed and leaned against the doorframe for support as she stifled another yawn. Had she really been up all night? Her whole sense of time had changed since the she had arrived. The snow seemed to glisten in the morning light as she looked across the yard, her eyes settling on a small stone building set off to the left. A low wooden roof was covered with snow. The whole building seemed to be deserted, abandoned in this small isolated part of the castle. Yet, a glimmer of candlelight shown through darkened windows.

Belle bit her lip as curiosity ran through her, but she halted, uncertain. Was this another forbidden place that the beast had forgotten to mention? She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair; the nagging voice still echoing in her head with no sign of relenting.

Once more, the rolling of the tea cart broke into her thoughts. She turned and saw Mrs. Potts moving toward her. "Is everything all right, my dear?"

Belle nodded. "Oui, I'm fine….why?"

"Well…it's just that you ran away so quickly, barely checking on Chantal."

"I only wanted to…" How could she explain it to her? Her husband's voice returned and she shivered, hugging herself.

"Oh dear come away from there." The cart rolled back from the door as Belle followed, the door shutting behind her with a soft click.

Glancing over her shoulder, Belle asked, "What was back there?"

"What…" She paused. "Oh that was the old chapel."

Belle's eyebrows rose. "A chapel?"

Her hand rose to the necklace and fiddled with the wedding band. The binding vows ran through her mind. Tears prickled her eyes but she brushed them away, avoiding Mrs. Potts even gaze.

"My dear, what is wrong?"

"Nothing-"

"Why did you tend to the Master before your own child?"

Belle stared at her. "Are you saying I don't love my own child?"

Mrs. Potts shook her head. "No of course not. I see your love for her, but at the same time your movements and gestures with her seem almost robotic, going through the movements, but not feeling them. Why is that?"

"I…it…" Belle clutched the chain and closed her eyes. Could she even explain it? She felt her hand slid over her stomach and the tears rolling down her face. Taking a deep breath, she looked over at the teapot. "How…how was your husband thrilled when Chip was born for him having a son?"

Mrs. Potts hopped over the cart and moved over to her. "What are you talking about? Chip's father was indeed happy, but it was a happiness he would have had either way no matter the gender. Many parents love their children regardless of gender."

"Many more prefer sons."

"Yes, but treasure the one you have and do not think of "what might have been" it will tear you apart."

Belle loosened her grip on the chain and looked at the teapot. It felt strange to speak of these things with another mother. Was she right? Had Gaston's insistence that sons were the most important blind her from fully allowing her daughter into her heart? No, having a son meant an heir to help with the family while a girl only brought more burdens upon them. She had felt the heart beats of her sons had carried them for nine mouths only to have them pass away. Belle shook her head, pushing the confusing thoughts away as she turned and walked back down the passageway back toward the parlor.

Firelight cast a cozy glow around the chamber as she entered. The two patients were sound asleep near the hearth. Gradually and quietly, Belle moved over, knelt down, and checked the beast's bandages. She sighed at the sight of the small patches of blood leaking through the cloths. Her gaze fell on the left over rags and basin of water set on a nearby table. A light moan from the divan caught her attention. Belle looked over and saw her daughter shift beneath the blankets. Slowly, Belle rose and went over, sitting herself beside her daughter. Gingerly, she brushed a few strands of hair from Chantal's brow and kissed her forehead.

_At least the fever is gone_. She straightened herself and tucked the blanket tighter around her. _How could such a beautiful girl be a burden? _

Yet, soon, the nagging voice returned. Belle shook her head, why was it all so confusing? She sighed and moved back over to the beast. She knelt down and began to rebandage his wounds. He grunted but did not awaken as she removed the bloody cloth. Despite his slumbering state, the beast still seemed restless; his face contorted in pain and tension. It was as if he could not escape the pain he was in during the day.

_Never getting peace_. Belle wrung out a cloth and gingerly began to clean \his arm. She knew the feeling; always lying awake or dreaming of her daughters' safety or thinking of her loss. She placed the damaged cloth aside and glanced over at her daughter. She heard Mrs. Potts words running through her mind as she stared at the slumbering child. Belle lowered her eyes and returned to tending the beast. Knotting the new cloth around his arm, she sighed and looked up at him. "Thank you…for saving my daughter's life."

From the firelight, she swore she saw a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. Belle shook her head; her exhaustion was getting the best of her. Collecting the rags and basin, she set them back on the table before she moved over to the fire and curled into a sleeping position, the sound of the crackling flames lulling her to sleep.

**Well there is it. :) A new Twist to the tending the beast scene. **

**I hope it was worth the lonh wait. One thing I think I must explain is that yes while Belle does love Chantal, she is also haunted by the deaths of her two sons and from Gaston's constant going on about having sons has taken its toll on her. So, while she loves her daughter a part of her is still yearning for a son. Anyway, I hope I did not overdue it on that part, but I thought it was a piont that I had to bring up in this story and for Belle's chatacter. Also in the 18th century most parents did want sons over girls I did not make that up. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and again sorry for the long wait. :) Please review and let me know what you think. Until next time. :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi I'm back again. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. Again, I have no BETAer anymore so I have tried to make it as best as I can. I know this is kind of a short chapter, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

The beast blinked as he awoke in his old chamber. A restless and uncomfortable week had passed since the awful storm and the beast had kept to himself except when the woman came to change the bandages around his arms. When he had given the order for her to tend him, she had simply nodded and said nothing more. He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling through the torn canopy, waiting.

Since he had given the order, her comings and goings to his chamber had been like clockwork as he watched time pass by the sun outside. In a strange way, he found her comings and goings filled him with a mixture of joy and frustration. They rarely talked except exchanges simple greetings, but he still saw the fear in her eyes and her submissive behavior drove him to near madness. Even the servants would reprimand him on some occasions, but the woman did not say a word against him. Still where was she now?

In his mind, he heard all her and the servants warnings of possible infections. Gingerly, he moved his left claw over the white bandage and growled. Why was he confined to bed rest if the bleeding had stopped? Ignoring all the woman's warnings of inflection, he swung out of bed and walked into the adjoining chamber where a faint melody drifted through the doors. The beast moved over and stared out of one of the windows. The late afternoon sun reflected off the frozen lake below while fresh snow covered the rest of the landscape.

He shook his head. "Where is she?"

Forte paused in his song. "Oh it is good to see up and about Master. And what did you say, Master?"

"The woman is not here yet."

"Oh…would you care for some music while you waited?" He began to play another song, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

Again, the beast shook his head. "Non, Forte not now."

Forte nodded. "Of course, Master. I just thought it would pass the time…but then why is the Madame not here? You are the master here after all."

The beast blinked. Why was he waiting? He was the master and he told her to come to him on time. Was she disobeying him yet again? He could still remember the chain she had worn around her neck with her wedding band on it after he had told to remove it in his presence. He frowned, his patience growing thinner as each second passed. Spinning around, the beast grabbed the magic mirror and asked for the woman's location. A green flash shone and then faded to reveal the woman talking to one of the servants in the kitchen. He growled and set the mirror down. What was she doing in the kitchen? The beast turned and walked out of the West wing and walked down the staircase.

At the bottom, he winced from his wound, but tried to ignore the pain. He did not want her to be right about the infection. He remembered his father always talked about the strength a King needed to have even ignoring pain in order to rule. Yet, now his impatience outweighed the pain as he moved down the endless corridors toward the kitchen. The few servants he passed bowed and spoke respectively, but he ignored them until he came to a halt at the closed kitchen door. Soft voices came from within and he closed his eyes, allowing his acute hearing to take over, but firm doors blocked out most of the conversation.

"Are you sure…?" The woman, Belle asked.

"…it will I'm positive…" Mrs. Potts answered.

"But…what if…oh…"

Hurried footsteps came toward him. Surprise ran through him as he listened to the footsteps until the door swung into him. A loud roar escaped him as the large door connected with his bandaged arms. Through his own screams, he saw Belle's face drain of color as she stared at him.

He glared at her. "What…were you doing?"

"Oh I'm…I'm…so sorry. Pardon me, I did not see you. I was just on my way to see you." Belle fiddled with a bottle in her hands.

"Why were you in there? I told you when I wanted you…what is that?" He gave a small gesture to the bottle in her hands.

Belle looked down at the bottle and hesitated. "It's medicine for Chantal."

The beast paused. Was the child still ill? Why did the mother hesitate to tell him what the bottle was? Was she ashamed or felling guilty from his outburst of her not being there for him? In the last week, he had barely heard any news of live beyond the walls of his chamber. He vaguely remembered the storm and the shivering child nearly buried in the falling snow. Despite the child complicating the curse, he felt a sort of compassion for the small girl. He took a deep breath and looked down at the young mother.

"How…urh…how is….Chantal?" He felt his lack of experience in expressing concern for others. Yet, Belle looked up, a new emotion shining in her eyes though he could not place a name to it.

"She is…recovering….merci."

The beast nodded. "That…that is good. Where…where is she?"

Belle paused and blinked. "She's…in our room." Surprise was evident in her eyes as she stared at him.

"May…um…I?"

Belle nodded, turned, and walked down the corridor. The beast blinked as he stared after her. Did she want him to follow her? Did she want his company after all? He watched her pause and look back at him, confused. He took a deep breath and followed her. They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing down the empty hallways. Every so often, the beast found his gaze shifting to look at her. She walked slower with her shoulders back, her whole body tense. Was she still so terrified of him?

Again, he felt the twinge of annoyance from her reserved nature. When he was young, he had seen his father and mother discussing different matters when they thought they were alone. It was true that his father had had the final word, but his mother always gave her opinion with a confidant voice no matter the topic. Yet, this woman never spoke unless spoken too with quick or frightened apologizes. The beast sighed. What could he do to break the silence between them? He vaguely remembered her first night in the castle and Lumiere's advice. Could he try it again? What did he have to lose?

He cleared his throat and glanced over at her. "How…how are you doing?"

Belle did not look at him. "I'm doing…fine."

The beast sighed. Once more, her answer had been quick and flat. It was as if she did not have any emotions at all. Inwardly, the beast chuckled darkly to himself. It had been his lack of compassion for others which had cursed him while the woman lacked any emotion except monotone. Lost in his own thoughts, he barely heard her speak.

"What…did you say?" The beast cringed as he heard an unintentional roughness to his voice.

Belle gulped, but repeated her question. "How are you doing?"

The beast paused and stared at her. The question was so simple and polite, but it was the first time she had spoken to him by asking her own questions. Belle paused too and looked up at him, waiting patiently for an answer.

He glanced down at his bandaged arms and back at her. "I'm…better."

She nodded. "Good."

Without another word, she turned and continued to walk down the corridor. The beast growled. What would it take for them to have a real conversation? He shook his head, remembering the bottle of medicine for the girl.

Quickening his pace, he followed Belle down the remainder of the passageways and into the bed chamber. Sunlight shone through the large windows, its rays spread across the blue coverlet on the bed. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of fire crackling in a hearth off to the right, its warmth filling the chamber in a cozy haze. The warmth of the room felt strange against his skin. His own room was always cold and gray stone. A loud, jarring cough interrupted his thoughts and he turned back toward the bed.

The small girl had almost sunk into the pillows of the bed, invisible to the eye at first. Yet, now she sat up, coughing while her body was covered in blankets. Color had returned to her face with the fever broken, but her coughing still persisted. The beast watched the mother and child closely, hovering in the doorway. A pang of sadness crept into his heart as he remembered the times he had been sick as a child. His mother would come in and sit for a while, but never go near him, allowing Mrs. Potts to take over his care.

As he continued to watch, he found himself becoming transfixed by them. Belle helped the child take the bottle of medicine before she hugged her, running her hands through her hair. She spoke in hushed, comforting tones, but her gaze shifted between her daughter and him. The beast took a step back. Was he not meant to be there after all? Had he been intruding on something private between them? He looked at them closer, but again he could not place the name of the emotion in her eyes. Was it nervousness or unease or something else?

Finally, Belle laid the child back down, tucking the covers around her again. She kissed her daughter's forehead before she turned and stared at him. Her eyes were now misty with oncoming tears, but she sucked them back down and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry; I did not come to see you. Chantal…"

The beast waved away her apologize. "Don't worry about it."

Belle nodded, but looked down at his bandages. "I'll change those soon. Let me just go and get-"

"They are fine. You've…" He paused. "You've…done a good job." The words felt foreign on his lips.

Belle blinked and just stared at him. "Why…thank you."

The beast nodded and looked at her. Her small voice had held a note of surprise and unease as though it was uncommon for her to receive a compliment as it was for him to bestow one. In a odd way, they seemed perfect for each other at least in their halting conversational skills. He glanced over her, back into the bedroom, remembering the child. After being confined to his own room for the last week, he knew how boring it was.

Shifting his gaze back to Belle, he took a deep breath. "Is…can I get anything? To give her…something to do?"

Belle paused and glanced over her shoulder. "At the moment, she just needs rest."

The beast nodded. "Very well…" He turned and paused. "Oh and you must make sure you never leave the castle."

Belle seemed to hesitant. "…Why my lo…Beast?"

He turned back to look at her. "I…just don't want…a repeat of the storm."

She nodded in understanding. "Neither do I."

"Is that a promise?"

Once more, she nodded. "Oui, I promise not to leave the castle grounds."

The beast turned to go, but paused again at the sound of Belle's voice. "What is it?"

"I…wanted to ask…you something." She paused and he imagined her biting her lip. "You offered to give Chantal something to do. And…she loves to sing and she mentioned someone in the West wing…"

The beast turned and gestured for her to continue.

She took a deep breath. "She mentioned a Monsieur Forte…"

"Oui…he was the court composer."

"Could…would it be possible… for him to help her?"

The beast stared at her. After a moment, he nodded. "I'll…look into it…for when she has…recovered."

Belle clasped her hands together and bowed her head in gratitude. Her voice was so soft as she thanked him. Yet, soon the beast began to feel the same reiteration as before. The submissive and avoiding nature drew his patience. If he had not given her permission to ask, would she even have asked for the music lessons? She seemed almost as clockwork as her comings and goings to his room. He shook his head and gave a small hasted farewell before he turned and went back to the West Wing.

His fur bristled at the sudden cold as he entered his chamber. He surveyed the chamber with their dark stone walls, torn furniture, and ripped cloth. It was a stark contrast to the room Belle and her child shared. In vain, he tried to remember the room before the curse. It had always been dark and cold like him. The beast shook his head and growled, remembering the woman outside the bedroom. How could a woman be so meek? It seemed as if that was the only role she knew. The beast turned and walked into the music room.

"Forte?"

The court composer stopped playing. "Yes, Master?"

"I have had a conversation with the mother and the child will now be taking music lessons with you."

Forte stared at him. "Master, I have not taught in many years."

The beast growled, irritated. "I doubt you have lost that skill and you will teach the child."

Forte sighed and bowed. "Of course, Master."

**Okay, this whole section just came to me as I was writing it. The thing with the coming to change the bandages everyday just came to me because given how much he was hurt and in those days with infections, changing the bandages was what people did. I am not very good at writing from the beast's pov, but I hope I did it well. As you can see he and Belle are starting to have some kind of conversations, but Belle has still not gotten over her own stuff which causes the beast to become irritated. **

**So, what did you guys think? Good, Bad? Were Belle and the beast getting a little to close to soon? Please let me know. Thank you and more coming soon. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey I'm back with this new chapter. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. Oh and I changed the title because it speaks of both the rose of spell wilting and "dying" and Belle who was once a rose ( before her marriage) and now has been "dying or wilting since them. Not the best explination, but anywayy there it is. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. **

Belle watched as Chantal practically skipped down the long corridor, a wide smile spread across her face. It had been five days since Mrs. Potts had declared her well enough to move about the castle again with orders to take it slow. A tiny smile slid onto Belle's face as she watched her daughter. She did not know how to take it slow. Yet, Chantal paused at the bottom of the stairs and glanced back at her.

"What is it, cherrie?" Belle moved over and placed hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Chantal pointed up the stairs. "We…we can't…"

A tiny smile crept at the corner of Belle's lips. "Oui, we can now. The beast gave us permission. It's ok-"

Chantal darted up the stairs, an unseen look of joy in her face as she beckoned her to follow. Belle almost chuckled to herself and followed her up into the West Wing.

Fragments of sunlight shone through the torn cloth across the entrance to the balcony, allowing a glimpse of light into the large room. She had heard Chantal run into the joining chamber to meet her new tutor. Now alone, Belle found her eyes wandering about the chamber. Worn, old, and destroyed and fabric still littered the floor while animal hides were heaped into a pile in a far corner. It did not seem possible that it was the same room, the beast had forbidden for them to enter. Since coming to dress the beast's wounds, she almost became accustomed to the chamber with its strange chaos; even the appalling stench did not affect her now. Yet, she felt something missing as her eyes darted around the chamber.

_Where is the beast? Surely, he would be…_ She sighed. Maybe the offer for Chantal's music lessons had been enough for him that he felt no need to be present too. She had not seen the beast since he had given her the offer for Chantal; he had even ordered her to stay away from tending his wounds. Again, she sighed almost unsurprised.

It was something Gaston would have done too. She felt her hand rise and rest upon her wedding band, still strung around her neck. It had been nearly two weeks since she had even thought of her husband. Was he even thinking or looking for them? _The snow storm would have covered Philippe's tracks…._ She shivered at the thought and paused as the sound of music began to play. Curiously, she walked through the large threshold into the joining chamber.

She saw Chantal standing off to the right as though looking at a wall, a timid smile on her face. Confusion swept across her mind as she inched forward. It struck her at how clean this chamber was compared to the one just beside it. No broken furniture or any disorder filled the room. Even most of the curtains were still intact, allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. Still, the sound of music seemed to echo off the walls though the melody was soft and welcoming. The sound of Chantal's voice broke through the song and Belle's thoughts.

"Maman, isn't he wonderful." Chantal ran over to her and tugged at her hand, pointing to the wall.

Belle turned and bit back a gasp at the massive pipe organ which filled the whole length of the wall.

A low, amused chuckle escaped the organ's mouth. "Yes, it is intimidating isn't it?" He paused and gave a small bow of his head. "You must be this one's mother."

Belle swallowed and nodded, taking a small step forward. "Oui, I am, Monsieur. I did not mean to interrupt. I…only wanted to meet you and say thank you."

"Oh don't thank me, Madame. This was my master's idea, though I am happy to have a student again."

Belle blinked. What did he mean? She remembered the beast's words of the organ's role in the castle of being the court composer. Pushing the thought back, she said, "Oui, I imagine it would be…and may…I say I am impressed with how…clean the chamber is."

Again, the organ nodded. "Oui, one cannot have such wasteful things about when…one is composing."

Chantal tugged at her hand. "Can I start, please?"

Belle looked down at her. "Chantal, be patient. That is up to Monsieur."

"Oui, Me and my little assignant Fife shall start right away and every afternoon from one until four. If that suits you, Madame."

Belle nodded. "Yes that would be wonderful. Merci, Monsieur." She leaned down and kissed her daughter's head. "I'll see you in a few hours, will you be all right?"

Chantal nodded and hugged her. "Oh yes, Maman, thank you."

Belle nodded once before she slipped back out of the room, closing the set of double doors on, the faint notes of another song beginning. Turning around, she leaned against the door, a new emotion caught in the throat. Why had the beast done this? Why had he even saved Chantal's life? It struck her as odd as the idea passed through her mind that she had never asked. She raised her head and scanned the chamber as though the beast's large form could truly be hidden in the chamber without anyone seeing him. Yet, the chamber was still empty.

As she gazed around the room, she found her eyes kept being drawn back the rose. It seemed as if it was calling out her each time she had entered the chamber. During her times with the beast, she had restrained herself and kept her eyes focused on tending to the beast. She gulped and felt herself begin to move over to the small glass jar set upon the table. The faint pinkish hue around the fragile flower seemed to have grown dimmer through it had not begun to wilt. She raised her hand and paused, remembering the last time she had dared reach for the flower.

"What are you doing?" a rough voice asked behind her.

Belle spun around, her heart pounding as she stared at the master of the castle. Placing her hand over her heart, she quickly moved away, unable to look at him. What would he do now? Fear trailed down her spine as she waited for his roar and annoyance at having been disobeyed again. Yet, none came. She gulped and dared to glance over at him, her hands rising in an almost prayer gesture. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean too. I was only looking."

The beast stared at her. "Only looking?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, I swear."

The beast nodded and glanced between the rose and her. He took a deep breath. "I….I suppose just…looking at…um…is all right, just that."

Belle nodded, the fear slowly evaporating as her heart rate returned to normal. Again, she reassured him of her intention before a thought occurred to her. "May…may I …I thought I was alone."

"You were. I came back because Mrs. Potts thought these damned bandages needed to be changed again."

Belle looked down at his arms. "Yes, they do…I'm sorry I wasn't thinking. I don't have the supplies…Mrs. Potts has them in the kitchen. Let me go."

The beast shook his head. "No…need we'll go together. I'm sick of this room anyway."

A half hearted smile slid onto her face as she looked at his almost pained expression of boredom. Yet, she felt the smile fade the instant he looked at her as she turned away and headed out of the West Wing with the beast following behind her as he had done five days ago.

They walked silently through the different passageways, uncertain of what to say. On occasion, Belle found herself glancing over to look at him. He walked with an awkward uncertain stance as he walked on his hind legs. He never looked at her, his eyes set ahead as he continued to walk in silence beside her. It felt strange to only be in the company of each other with silence between them. Gaston always had a crowd gathered around him, telling larger-than-life stories of his latest kill or some other tall tale to the worshipping villagers while she was pushed off into the shadows until he desired her.

Inwardly, she sighed and glanced over at the beast wanting to say something, but something held her tongue. Once more, she found her eyes searching the corridors. The high ceilings seemed to be reaching toward the every sky outside, almost disappearing from view as she stared up. Lowering her gaze, she began to look at the architecture. The large, in depth stone carved creatures stared down at her as though watching her every move. She shivered and glanced down at the beast's bandaged arms. How long did he say they had gone unattended? Again, a memory of her husband crept into her mind and she shivered, quickening her pace.

"Is…something wrong?"

Belle paused and looked back at the beast. "I…just need to get the fresh bandages. The blood may have stopped, but you still could get an infection."

The beast stared at her. "Its fine…Madame really…"

Belle hesitated. "Well…one more change wouldn't hurt."

Without another word, she turned and went into the kitchen. The servants paused and stared at her as though they had just been in a conversation. The silverware rolled and hopped away until only Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth remained standing on the main counter.

Lumiere hopped down and gave a small, elaborate bow. "Oh good afternoon, Master, Madame, how are you?"

Belle knelt down in front of him. "I'm…all right, thank you, Lumiere. Mrs. Potts could I have some more bandages for the master?"

Mrs. Potts looked down at her. "Of course, dear. I'll get those for you in a second." She turned and hopped away.

"Where's Chan…the girl?" a soft voice peeped.

Belle blinked and smiled. "She's taking music lessons with Monsieur Forte. She'll be here soon, Chip."

The little teacup smiled turned and hopped after his mother.

Belle stood up and dusted herself off. She turned around and stared at the beast, who hovered in the doorway just as she had done when he had watched her and Chantal in their bedchamber. Why did he never come forward in conversations? He always held back as though ashamed of something.

Belle moved back over toward him. "We…can go sit in the parlor until Mrs. Potts comes back…." She paused and looked up at him. "Is that all right?"

The beast nodded. "Yes."

She turned back to the candelabra and the clock. "Could you tell Mrs. Potts we have gone into the parlor?"

Cogsworth started to protest, but Lumiere stuck a hand out and bowed again. "Of course, Madame, do not worry we shall tell her."

Belle nodded, turned, and walked into the parlor. She found the beast already sitting in the large chair in front of the fireplace. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his claws digging into the armrests. Belle bit her lip and carefully moved into the room as quietly as possible. The beast's ears perked up at the sound and he turned, glaring at her. "What is it?"

Belle bowed her head. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to disturb you."

The beast turned away from her. "No…" He cleared his throat. "It's fine…I was just thinking."

Belle nodded, but said nothing. Men rarely spoke their thoughts to women for it was always too complex for their pretty heads. Quickly, she moved over and placed her arm on one of the bandages. For a moment, the beast looked up at her, a strange unnamed emotion swimming through his eyes. Was it guilt, fear, or anger? Yet, just as quickly it was gone and the beast lowered his gaze.

Belle knelt down beside him and began to unwrap the old bandages. Once more an awkward, comfortable silence fell between them as Belle worked patiently. Over the last week, her skills of tending had quickened, but now she took her time. She listened as the fire crackled in the hearth, warming her back as she worked. Mrs. Potts came and delivered the supplies without a word and left.

Belle lifted one of the new bandages and glanced over at his arm. "They have healed well. These…should be the last." She began to wrap his right arm again.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she sensed the beast watching her. Yet, she said nothing, concentrating on her work, making certain it was perfect. _No mistakes…not when Chantal got her wish…no mistakes. _Those words kept circling in her mind as she gingerly wrapped a layer at a time.

"So…what do you like to do?"

Belle paused and looked up at the beast. "Pardon, what did you say?"

"Well…your daughter likes to sing, but…I have no idea what you like to do."

Belle paused, uncertain how answer such a question. Was it a test of some sort? She remembered Gaston in the first years of their marriage asking her what the importance of something had been. If she had answered incorrectly, there was a small punishment involved. She gulped and resumed her work. "I…I enjoy the simple things in life. A good house, children…."She paused a sense of daring came over her. "I also enjoy riding my horse Philippe."

"Is…that all?" a note of both surprise and unconvinced in his voice.

Belle set the cool basin and old rags on the small table, not looking at him, the weight of her years of marriage wearying on her. Yet, something in his voice gave her an ounce of courage. She took a deep breath, "When…I was younger…I used to read books. I love stories."

"And…you tell them well."

Belle glanced over at him, her heart racing. She had only told stories to Chantal to help her sleep when she was sick. _How could he…?_ Her thoughts trailed off as she remembered sensing another presence in the room sometimes. _Had he been spying on her?_ He is the master, she reminded herself. _He can do as he pleases_. Quickly, she lowered her gaze and gave a small nod. "Thank you."

The beast said nothing, but continued to watch her until the process was complete. Knotting the last piece of cloth, she said, "There that should do it." She dared a glance up at him. "May…I ask you a question now?"

The beast absentmindedly nodded.

"Well…outside the one of the courtyards, I saw a few bushes that seemed to be some rose bushes and I was wondering…" She paused, but he nodded for her to continue. "Why you had that one rose-"

She jumped back as the beast leapt up and glared down at her. His fierce blue eyes baring into her as though he was going to strike her. "Never ask about that do you understand?"

Belle felt the color drain from her face, but she nodded. "Yes,."

She watched speechless as the beast turned and darted from the parlor without another word. Belle pulled herself up onto her hands as she stared after him. Where had that rage came from? Those eyes still haunted her and she felt her nightmare returning. Her hand flew up and began to fiddle with her wedding band. Was she doomed to be living with such monsters? The same thought kept swirling around in her mind. _What have I done?_

**XxX**

Up in the West Wing, the beast began to pace its length in frustration. Over their past few encounters, he had tried to use Lumeire's advice of asking her questions, but it had gone too far this time. How dare the woman ask such a personal question! Who did she think she was and why had he gone with her? Closing his eyes, he could still see the servants staring at him, their eyes filled with a new light of hope that the beast knew could never be. How could he even begin to find love with a married woman, one who still was terrified of him?

The faint strands of music floated through the closed doors of Forte's private chamber, where he was now giving the girl lessons. The beast listened and sighed, replaying the conversation with her. The girl had loved music and he given her music lessons, but what did Belle like? Books….he paused a vague memory of a large room filled with shelves of different volumes ran through his mind. Could that be a way to understand the woman? With that idea, he moved out of the chamber and down to the sourthen east wing of the castle.

**Well what you think? I know I am going a little slow with moving the plot forward and having the bandages still play a part, but I promise the plot will pick up. Also Belle (as I have mentioned before) has a lot of her own issues to work through (as many as the beast has) and she is not going to deal with all them just overnight and remeber she had been married for seven years so that is a lot of time. And speaking of the beast, he is trying to connect to Belle, but at the same time he has not changed in his temper completely and Belle was asking personaly stuff about the rose.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) Please review. How is the connection between Belle and the beast? Was the beast's actions to Belle's question to over the top? Please let me know and any suggestions are always welcomed.** **:) More coming soon. And for those who like this story, I wrote a new one-short called, Set Me Free in a post transformation story so you can check that out too. Anywa, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Here it is the next chapter. I own nothing, but the Chantal and the new plot of the story. I have no BETAer, so again any mistakes I'm sorry. Thank you to my faithful reviewers and welcome to my new ones. I hope you enjoy the chapter. (and sorry for the wacky writing there). **

"Again, breath in from the diaphragm," Maestro Forte said, looking down Chantal. She nodded and tried it once more. Yet, she felt her voice miss the notes and stumble as she went down the scale. She pouted and shook her head. "I can't do it, Maestro."

"You are not concentrating….is something on your mind?" Forte asked, his voice was full of frustrated concern.

Chantal paused, thoughtful for a moment. What was on her mind? She loved her singing lessons, but something else was still nagging at her. She vaguely remembered going out into the storm to find her father, wanting him to kill the monster that was hurting Maman. Yet, she had gotten lost and was not allowed out anymore. The monster was still keeping her and Maman prisoners without seeing Papa again. A few tears began to roll down her face as she remembered her father. Was he even looking for them?

Quickly, she turned away from her tutor and walked over to one of the large windows. She stared out into the empty white covered grounds, imaging her father riding his horse toward them. The late afternoon shine shining on the horse's black coat. How long would it take for him to come save her and her mother?

"What is it?"

Chantal turned back to the organ, but did not look at him. "I…I want my Papa."

Forte paused and nodded as though he understood. "Oui, I know how you feel, child…hm… you would like to see him?"

Chantal nodded and looked up, hopeful for a moment. "Is he coming?"

Forte smirked at her childish excitement, but shook his head. "Non…but you can see him. Go into the next room and you'll see a mirror. Just pick it up and say who you want to see."

Chantal nodded again and darted out into the main part of the chamber. She slowed down and paused as she reached the table. Foggy memories swept through her mind as she stared at the rose beneath the glass jar. What would happen if she went up now? Would the monster appear again? She shivered, but cautiously moved over to the table and picked up the mirror. It felt cold and heavy in her hands as she stared at her own reflection. Turning it over in her small hands, she tried to see where the control magnesium was, hearing her grandfather's words in her head. _Everything has a control switch you just need to find it_. Yet, she found none.

She took a deep breath asked, "Where is Papa?"

Letting out a small scream of surprise, she dropped the mirror as it flashed a bright green. It landed on the floor with a tiny thud, but the green light did not fade. Her eyes darted around the room, waiting for the monster to leap out, but she was still alone. Curiously, she turned back, knelt down and peered into the mirror. Instead of her reflection, she saw her father in the tavern surrounded by a large group of people.

He laughed at something and then wrapped his arm around a young blonde. "How are you tonight, my dear?"

The blonde giggled, but asked, "Have you had any luck with finding your wife and daughter?"

"I have tried and I shall go again tomorrow. Go beast or little wife can escape from me." He smiled and leaned down to the girl just as the mirror glowed and returned to normal. Chantal blinked as she stared at the blank object. All these strange inventions confused her, but now there was only one thing on her mind. Her Papa was looking for them. She placed the mirror back on the table and ran back into the music room.

"Are we done for the day, I need to find, Maman." She looked up at Forte hopefully.

He raised his eyebrows at her for a moment. "Oh really…you wish to stop?"

"Just today."

"Oh…" He gave small sigh. "Oh very well."

"Merci, Meastro."

Quickly, she turned and ran out of the West Wing. At the base of the staircase, she paused and looked up and down the empty corridor. Where had Maman told her she would be? The castle was so massive with too many rooms to search. Her eyebrows furrowed together in vain as she tried to remember. Yet, the idea that Papa was looking for them would not leave her alone. She smiled as she began to walk back to their room. _Wait till Maman hears this. Papa is looking us, we have to go and help him He must have been looking for the last two months._ Her mind began to race with different plans as to how they could escape.

Another voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Chantal….hey Chantal, wait for me."

She turned, her eyes falling on the young teacup. She remembered him visiting her many times when she had been sick. Both of them would talk for hours until their mothers broke them part. A warm smile spread across her face. "Hi teacup….I mean, Chip."

Chip smiled up at her. "What are you doing? I thought the master said you had singing lessons."

Chantal nodded. "I did…but now I need to find Maman, do you know where she is?"

Chip thought for a moment. "Oh...I think the master wanted to see her in the east wing." He turned around and hopped down the passageway. "Come on, this way."

Chantal frowned and ran after him. "Hey wait for me."

Soon, they began to chase after each other, their laughter echoing through the numerous silent passageways. The two children ignored all the stares from the other servant objects as they continued to race. As the turned another corner, Chantal paused against a suit of armor, out of breath. She held up her hand and called out to her small friend.

Chip stopped and looked back at her. "Are you okay?"

Chantal nodded. "Oui, just….out….of breath."

"So…what did you want to talk to your mom about?" Chip hopped back over and looked up at her.

"Oh…" Chantal laughed and smiled. "My papa is looking for us. We have to go now."

Chip's eyes grew wide. "But…" His voice tailed off as he heard something further down the corridor.

Quietly, the two children moved and peered around the corner. Chantal spotted her mother standing near the beast in a green gown from the wardrobe. Fear pulsed through her veins as she stared at the beast, but something looked different about him. He seemed more awkward in a real shirt and pants as though he was human. Yet, animals did not give people singing lessons either.

The longer she watched them, she found that she could not move. The beast looked so awkward around her mother, not at all like her papa's large, overwhelming presence. At the thought of her father, she stood up, but paused at the beast spoke.

"Madame…Belle, I wanted to show you something."

Chantal looked down at Chip, but he was watching the exchange too. The sound of a door being opened brought her back as she looked down at the beast and her mother. The beast was opening the door, but paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Can…you close your eyes?"

Chantal giggled at the strange question, but froze as the beast and her mother turned in her direction. Quickly, she moved back behind the wall, but heard her mother call to her. "It's all right, Chantal. You can come out."

Tentatively, Chantal peeked out and looked for Chip, but he had vanished. She took a deep breath and walked over to them. She paused beside her mother and clung to her dress as Belle wrapped her arm around her shoulder. "I thought you had singing lessons till five."

Chantal nodded, suddenly remembering why she had cut the lesson short. "Maman, we have to go now."

"What do you mean, Chantal?"

"I…we have…" Her voice tailed off as she looked over at the beast. A shiver ran down her spine and she grew quiet and shook her head. "Never…mind, Maman."

Belle looked at the beast. "What did you want to show me?"

The beast shifted a little, uncomfortably. "I….um…can you close your eyes."

"Why?" Chantal asked, looking up at the beast confused.

The beast stared down at her and gave an awkward half smile. "It's…a surprise for your mother."

Chantal looked up at her mother, whose eyes were closed without protest. Taking a deep breath, Chantal closed her own eyes as the beast opening the doors. One of the windows gave the sense of light in front her eyes, but she dared not open them. She felt her mother walking forward, guided by the beast, and moved with them into complete darkness.

**Okay, I know really, really short, but I wanted to try my hand at writing from Chantals' pov since she is a big part of the story. Also with children, even when their parent is bad, like Gaston, they want to be with them and basically ignore the touble things they do. So I hope that makes sense with Chantal still wanting to see her mother and I tried not to make to her mature in this section, but kids understand a lot more than adults relize. **

**Oh and thank you Otaku Takeshi for giving my the idea about adding Bel''s husband at least a little into the story at least a little bit. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and tha next chapter should be coming soon.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Wow two chapters done in one week, for this story that's awesome. This quick update is for all my faithful readers who have been with this story from the beginging and have kept reading despite the long lentgh between updates. **

**To a question from a reviewer from the last chapter. Forte will be a villain in the story, but since the chapter was from Chantal's piont of view, she doesn't see him as a bad guy. So hope that helps.**

** I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

Belle felt the awkward, tender claw hand leading her into a dark chamber. She remembered her husband's fierce possessive grip on her. Yet, the beast's hand barely seemed to touch her, only adding enough pressure to guide her. Her breath quicken in anticipation and fear. What kind of surprise could the beast be giving her? He had cornered her in one of the lower rooms after she had returned from her daily ride with Philippe and had asked her to follow him. Neither of them had said a word as they walked until they had reached the correct chamber.

Now, she felt the anticipation rise in her. Beside her, she felt Chantal following her as she had done many times before, but this time neither of them knew what was going to happen. A shiver crawled down her spine at the cold, spacious, and dusty atmosphere of the chamber like many others in the castle. Their footsteps seemed to echo around the room the further they walked into the darkness. She felt the urge to run, but curiosity overcame her fear. What could the surprise be?

"Can we open our eyes?" Chantal asked.

The beast paused for a moment before he continued to lead them. Belle imagined him shaking his head. "No, not yet."

A few more steps and he paused again. "Just wait here."

Belle nodded and wrapped her arm around Chantal's shoulders. She turned at the sound of curtains being drawn back and held up her hand to block the sudden light shining through her closed eyelids. She sensed the dust swirling around the air, but said nothing. Confusion and curiosity again rode over her other emotions.

She took a deep breath. "Now, can we open them?"

"All right…" The beast paused and she sensed a strange smile in his voice. "Now."

Belle obeyed and let out a soft gasp. The darkness had vanished, replaced with countless sleeve filled with books from floor to ceiling. Different colored volumes filled every niche in the clef. Two small staircases led to a second level while tall ladders were positioned at the end of each bookcase. Familiar long narrow windows allowed the twilight light through, illuminating the chamber in a soft green glow. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to take everything in all at once. It was unbelievable and beyond her wildest dreams as her eyes kept surveying the chamber. _How was this possible? Why did he…?_ Her thoughts trailed off as she stopped and looked back at the beast. He shifted uncomfortably, but never lowered his gaze from her.

Tentatively, he took a step forward. "Come…there's a little-"

"What is this place, Maman?" Chantal asked, looking around the room.

Belle singled for her to be quiet, but the beast gestured for her answer. Belle felt the tiniest smile of gratitude as she turned and knelt down beside her daughter. "It's a library…like the bookshop in town only much bigger and filled with books."

Chantal made a face. "Books?"

Belle nodded. "Oui."

Again, Chantal made a face and shook her head, mumbling. "Papa's not going to like this."

Belle gave her small, uncomfortable smile. "It's…. alright." She stood up and turned back to the beast. "What else do you want to show us?"

The beast blinked. "Oh…yes…come with me."

He turned and walked a little further back into the library. He moved aside and gestured to small private section where a small couch was set and a fire blazed in the hearth. "Incase…you wanted some…private reading."

The implied words were clear to her. Private reading away from his pressance. Belle ducked inside the small alcove and sat down the couch with Chantal. After the cold day of riding, the fire's warmth felt good against her skin. She sighed and looked back over the beast to welcome him. Those blue eyes stared back at her and she shivered turning away from him. Yet, looking into the fire, she felt her breath quicken as she saw the silver letters of her favorite story being taken away from her and burning to ash. She felt the pain of her hands when she had reached in to try and retrieve the book.

The book had been gift just as she was certain the beast intended the library to be, but would he take it away too? A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook her head trying to shake the memories away. Without a word, she stood and ran from the chamber, her vision blurred as she continued to run not carrying where she was going. Chantal's words continued to run through her mind. _Papa wouldn't like it_. Despite all he had done, she was still bound to him and could not disobey him even when they were apart.

Belle felt her body collapse on the floor and continued to cry. The beast had given them so much while her husband barely acknowledged her. _The why do I feel so confused?_ She took a few shaky breaths, pushed herself up off the floor, and brushed away her tears as the sound of a cart rolling caught her attention.

The cart slowed down as Mrs. Potts looked at her. "Oh my dear whatever's the matter?"

Belle took a deep breath. "It's…nothing, Mrs. Potts."

The motherly teapot stared at her until Belle looked at away. "It's nothing really."

"Did the master show you the library?" Mrs. Potts asked.

Belle glanced over at her, surprise evident on her face. "How…?"

Mrs. Potts smiled. "That is the only main chamber down here. The rest are just storage and other various rooms, nothing important. We had been dusting and fixing that chamber up for two days."

"Oh…I see." Belle glanced over her shoulder and looking back the way she had come. "Mrs. Potts why did the beast show me that room?"

Mrs. Potts shifted her eyes as though she was shrugging. "He said you had mentioned how you enjoy reading and just thought it would be nice way to get to know you."

Belle paused. She had completely forgotten her confusion to the beast about her old passion for the written word. He said nothing against reading and had even complimented her on her own skill at storytelling. He had only lost his temper when she had mentioned the rose. Was it possible that he was doing this out of true generosity and kindness?

As though reading her thoughts, Mrs. Potts asked, "Has the master given you any reason to doubt his actions?"

Belle shook her head. He had allowed Chantal to remain with her, had released her father, had saved her daughter's life, and had allowed Chantal to take singing lessons. What reason had she to doubt him at all? It seemed foolish to believe such a thing the more she thought about it.

She gave a small smile to Mrs. Potts. "Merci, I'll go and talk to him?"

Mrs. Potts nodded. "Very good dear. Now I'm off to the kitchen, this little one needs a bath."

Belle blinked and saw Chip sound asleep on the cart off to the left next to an empty jug of milk. She nodded and watched as the cart rolled down the corridor and out of sight. Left alone, she closed her eyes and tried to think. After her display could she even go back into the liberty? What did the beast think of her? Her fingers brushed against her eyes, but her tears had dried completely. She took a deep breath and walked back toward the liberty.

At the corner, she turned and spotted Chantal standing in the doorway. Chantal ran to her and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Maman, what was wrong? Why did you leave?"

Belle pulled away ad knelt down, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Chantal. I just didn't feel well. And I forgot that you had something to tell me"

Chantal nodded. "Oh Maman, you have to leave now. Papa's going to be looking for us tomorrow I heard him say it."

Belle stared at her. "What do you mean, you heard your Papa?"

"From the magic mirror. I'm telling the truth and we have to go now. He'll be looking us." Chantal pulled away and began to walk down the corridor.

"Chantal, wait." She stood up and walked over to her daughter again. "Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?"

She nodded. "I saw it in a magic mirror near the rose in the West Wing."

Belle almost chuckled. Yet, she paused as Gaston's disapproving words ran through her. _You see what your foolish stories have done, like mother like daughter_. Belle shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. _No, she doesn't if anything she takes after her father_.

"Maman, we have to go now. Papa will be looking for us tomorrow."

Inwardly, Belle sighed. "Well we can go tomorrow and besides I have to talk to the beast first. Do you know where he went?"

Chantal shrugged. "I…think he went back up to the West Wing." She looked up at her mother. "Maman, what happened why did you run?

Belle bit her lip, unable to explain it to herself. She shrugged. "I…told you I just wasn't feeling well." She gave a small smile. "Now why don't you go and ask Mrs. Potts about supper."

Chantal nodded and ran down another corridor.

Belle stared after where she had been, questions about her husband and Chantal's words running through her mind. Could it be true that Gaston is looking for them? In truth, she could not see Gaston looking very hard. In her failure at providing a living son, he had gone to seek other women. Yet, he had always come back to her as her husband. Her hand fell against the wedding band. Somehow their marriage still meant something to him, she was certain. She remembered their wedding where he had promised before the congregation and God that he would protect, cherish her, honor and love her. That same night he had shown dishonor of her thoughts when he had destroyed the one of the two things she loved most; her books

A sudden familiar shiver crawled down her spine. Over the last few weeks, she had learned to sense when the beast's invisible gaze was upon her. He was almost like a silent guardian or something. She turned and saw the beast moving from the shadows into the lighted doorway. His eyes were filled with pain and confusion as he stared at her, but she quickly looked away, afraid and ashamed.

An awkward silence fell between them, the seconds passing as if they were minutes. Belle shifted uncomfortable, but dared not speak. She sensed the beast moving toward her and stopping only inches away.

"Why…did you leave?"His voice was soft, but lined with anger.

Belle inwardly winced, but took a deep breath. "I'm sorry…I just wasn't feeling well."

"It…was more than that." He paused. "Why do you reject it?"

_Because you could take it away again so easily_. Belle sighed. How could she make the beast understand? What could she do to show him that she was not rejecting his kind thought only the books? Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him move away from her and back into the library. Obediently, she followed him.

The beast swung around to face her. "Where you lying to me?"

Belle shook her head. "No, I…have never lied to you, my lor- Beast." She took a deep breath and raised her head to look around the chamber. "I did like to read once, but….it was a long time ago before I was married."

"Did your new husband not have a library big enough for you?" The beast asked.

Belle pressed her lips together, remembering all Gaston's complaints about books. The image of the burned book kept coming back to her and she sighed. Lowering her gaze back onto the floor, she shook her head. "He…most people in my village do not approve of books. They are considered evil."

"Well…I have never found much enjoyment from them."

Once more, she raised her head and looked around the room. Her eyes seemed to rest on each volume. A tiny smile spread across her lips. "They can take you anywhere you want to go. They can allow you to _escape_…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away embarrassed and uncertain.

The beast took a step toward her. "You enjoyed reading."

Belle nodded, still not looking at him.

The beast paused thoughtful. "If you…. could read again…without judgments would you?"

Belle hesitated. "What do you mean?"

The beast took another step toward her. "I said…on the night you came here….this was your home now. Do you like it?" He gestured to the whole chamber.

Belle felt herself nod. "It's….unbelievable."

"Then it's yours."

Belle felt her heart quicken. Could it really be true? She played the beast's words over in her mind, only hearing an honest answer. It all seemed so unreal. She took a deep breath and moved over toward the beast. He shifted uncertain, but did not move away and stared at her. Slowly, Belle raised her eyes and stared back into his blue gaze; the eyes which had never lowered from his as she had always done. Gazing into his eyes, she whispered, "Thank you…so much."

The beast nodded and gave a small smile. After a moment, he lowered his own eyes and excused himself.

"Wait." Belle called out when he had reached the door. "Do...would you like to join me?"

The beast glanced over his shoulder. "Urh…no as I have said I have never been found of reading."

Belle paused before she nodded. She could not expect him to be any different no matter that he had given her such a grand gift. She watched silently as he moved and turned down the corridor, listening as his footstep faded away.

Left alone, she turned and surveyed the large chamber. Where should she begin? The whole aspect of it was almost overwhelming. Unknown what stories the room held; she began to look down the shelves. Histories, topics of science, mathematics, and other topics were mismatched between books of adventure and romance. Yet, none of them caught her attention. It seemed as though she was looking for something in particular, but she could not place a name on it. For about an hour, she searched both levels of the library in vain.

A small smile crept onto her face as she imagined Chantal finding books of inventions; perhaps she would finally show an interest in her passion. She kept walking, her hands by her sides as though touching the spines would mean it was all a lie. Finally, her eyes came to rest on a single volume stuffed between two history books. The title seemed to call to her the longer she stared it, _King Arthur_. Could it be? Hesitantly, she ran her fingers down its cool, dusted brown leather spine before she pulled it out.

Her heart quickened once more as she stared at the cover. She could not remember the last time she had held a book in her hands. It felt almost foreign to her. She bit her lip and opened the book, the spine creaking, signaling its rare use, and began to read.

**Okay I know Belle was very reflective in the chapter, but again she has own issuses to go through. And I hope her reaons for not being so grateful to the beast at first made sense. So, please review and let me know what you think and I promise more will happen in the next few chapters. Please review and thank you:)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Here is the next chapter. I own nothing, but Chantal and the other plot twists. Again, I have no BETAer so I hope I found ammy mistakes. And I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

A few days, the beast sat in front of the fireplace while Forte's music played gently in the background. The music helped ease his pain as he felt the coldness of winter surround his heart; even just remembering the month reminded him of his one fatal mistake. Occasionally, the beast found his eyes looking down at his healed arms. Since his wounds had healed, he had not seen the mother or child much at all.

It felt strange not to have Belle come and tend to his wounds. Though they had rarely spoken, he had enjoyed the silent companionship. Staring into the fire, he began to imagine how they entertained each other for the day. Neither the mother nor child seemed to have much in common from the little interactions he saw between them.

At the thought of the child, he turned to the court composer. "How are the music lessons going?"

Forte paused. "…It has been….interesting, but Master…why have given me this role to train the girl?"

The beast shrugged. "I…she seemed to want the girl have something to do."

Forte smiled and began to play again. "And why do you say that, Master?" He chuckled gently. "Do you honestly think she enjoys your company?"

The beast turned and growled at him. "Why do say such things?"

"Well, the girl continues to talk of her dear handsome Papa during our lessons."

The beast growled and walked out of the chamber, Forte's words running through his mind. How could it true? Yet, how could she not compare his hideous body with her perfect handsome husband? The woman was too polite or to afraid to say such things directly to him, but it was inevitable that she would compare them. His claws formed into fists as he gazed at the glass jar. The enchanted rose glowed gently, but steam had begun to wilt. How could he have been so foolish to believe that a married woman would ever fall in love with him?

Quickly, he turned away and sighed in frustration. He needed something take his mind away from all the terrible thoughts. He glanced back at the music room and shook his head. Forte's music had always been able to make him forget the most painful memories, but now he needed something more. An image of the woman standing in the library surrounded by all the books came to his mind. What had she told him about the world of books? _They can allow you to_ _escape_.

An escape that was what wanted, but why would she need such a thing? He had never spent much time thinking about her married life, but he imagined it as a happy and cheerful time with the parents and little Chantal. In truth, he felt almost envious of the life when he thought of his own parents who had never been around much. They had always been away at different affairs of state or adult balls.

His head shot up as his sensitive ears caught the sound of something moving in the dark. He turned and growled, running into the darkness and grabbing the intruder. A loud scream broke through the silence as the beast released the little girl. Through the dim light, he saw her tremble. Tears rimmed her eyes as she held her arm and ran out of the chamber without a word.

He watched her go and cursed himself for his own fierce temper. He heard the correct words in his mind, but his mouth would not form the words. Running his paw down his face, he sighed. What had he just done? He looked down at his claws; it was so easy to rip though the fur and tasting the animal blood. Until the humans came, he had sensed himself losing his identity, consumed by the monster within.

A low growl rumpled in his throat as he shook his head. _No, the little girl had snuck up on him and should know the consequences. _

The beast took a deep breath as an image of the frightened girl crept into his mind. With a small shake of his head, he turned and walked out of the West Wing and through the endless corridors in search of her. The longer he searched, he felt the guilt and confusion eat at him. He had barely touched her and yet she had let out a piercing scream. Was he just so terrifying?

Soon, he found himself out of the library and paused at seeing the door a jar. He crept closer, but hid behind the door as the sound of voices met his ears. The timbre of Belle's voice was soft and comforting while the child kept hiccupping through her tears. Closing his eyes, the beast frowned; he had not meant to hurt the child. He took a deep breath and pushed upon the door.

Belle and the girl sat on one of the divans set to the right of the room, a little separate from the main library. A small fire crackled in the hearth, but he still felt the coldness of the chamber. Mother and daughter looked up as his entrance and stared at him. Another wave of guilt swept through him as he stared at them. The child was huddled next to her mother; her eyes shone with fear, but held no trance of pain. His eyes shifted over to Belle, but she averted her eyes and looked down at her daughter without a word. The beast shifted uncomfortably and took a small step toward them. "I….I, are you all right?"

The child said nothing.

He ran his paw through his fur. "Chantal, are you all right?...I did not mean to hurt you."

Chantal looked over at him, surprise and fear etched onto her face. "I'm….okay, but …" New tears began to rim her eyes. "Please don't hurt Maman."

"Shh…it's all right, Chantal," Belle said, wrapping her arms around her.

The beast gawked at them, the child's words running through his mind. Why did the child assume his actions were to be violent against her mother? None of it made any sense. Yet, he could still see the uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced over at him.

Belle stroked her hair and again offered comforting words. After a moment, she asked, "Where were you hurt?"

Chantal shifted and looked at her mother. She said nothing, but pointed to a certain spot on her arm and wrapped it, a small wince escaping her lips.

The beast blinked, confused. The fabric had not even been torn nor were there any other marks of damage. Was the child just imaging the whole injury? As a child, he had faked one or two injuries to gain his mother's attention only to be shoved off to his nurse and other servants. Yet, Chantal, in what he had seen, had never needed to lie to gain her mother's attention. He shook his head and apologized again.

Belle nodded. "Oui, I…understand. Chantal, it was just an accident just like before."

"But-"

"It's all right." Belle leaned over and kissed the spot where Chantal had indicated. "There all better."

Chantal nodded, but sniffed as she brushed away her tears. "You…promise you're going be okay, Maman?"

Belle gave a small smile and glanced over at the beast. "Oui….I promise."

The beast shifted his gaze away until they rested on the opened book set on one of the tables. A small sense of warmth filled him with the knowledge that she was using his gift to her. Despite his lack of interest, he found himself curious as to which book, out of all the rest, she had chosen to read first.

He gave a small gesture toward the table. "Are…you enjoying the book?"

Belle blinked and glanced at the discarded book. A look of sadness crept onto her face for a moment. Yet, the next second, a small smile spread across her face as she turned to face him. "Oui….I am….though I admit….it has taken me a little longer to get into the story?"

"Why is that?" The natural question was out before he even thought it.

Belle shifted and stood up. "I…don't know…I guess it's just been so long." She took the book in her hands, only three quarters of the way through.

The beast blinked. "Is…that the only book you have started to read?"

Belle nodded, before she set the book on the table again.

The beast opened his mouth again, but Chantal cut him off. "Maman, can I go play with Chip and have my singing lesson?"

Belle smiled. "Of course, Chantal. Be a good girl now."

Chantal nodded and leapt off the couch. She gave a small bow to the beast before she turned and ran out of the room; her footsteps fading away in the distance.

Silence fell upon the chamber as the beast turned and glanced over at Belle. She lowered her gaze to the book on her lap while a shiver ran down her spine. Her hands shook as though she was trying to keep from crying. His sensitive ears perked at the sound of her shaky breaths. Once more, the sense of guilt swam through him as he stared at her. It was as though she had forgotten she had an audience.

The beast took another step forward, but made no move to touch her. "I'm sorry….I did not mean to hurt, Chantal."

Belle shook her head. "It's not you."

Her vioce was barely above a whisper, but his sesative ears caught them. He frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Belle raised her head and brushed the tears away. "Oh… never mind. Chantal is not hurt at all….she was just frightened."

The beast stared at her. Was she just dismissing the whole thing? Something had bothered both her and Chantal, but she just seemed to ignore it. He replayed the whole event over in his mind. _It's not you_. If he had not hurt the girl than who had? In the back of mind, something clicked, but he quickly pushed the idea away. It was too horrible to think of.

Yet, he felt his concern and curiosity getting the better of him "Belle?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I told you….it's nothing really. And thank you again for the library."

The beast blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Uh…you're welcome…so may I ask you a question?"

Belle nodded. "Of course."

"You…you mentioned something that it has been a while since you have read a book, right?"

She gave a small, almost shameful nod.

"Well….how long has it been?"

"Almost seven years."

The beast gave a small smile. "It seems we have something in common, though I cannot remember the last time I read a book." He paused. "But…what did you mean by that books allow you to escape?"

"Oh…books can take you anywhere." She moved over to a globe and gave it a little push. "They can take you anywhere you want to go. Spain, England, or any other place you can imagine, even some imagined ones…." Her voice trailed off as she turned back to him. "I…what books have you read?"

The beast sighed and looked away from her. "I…don't remember. It was so long ago."

He saw her nod in understanding and he took another step forward. "Belle…if you loved books why have you not been reading, surely Chantal would-"

"She does not like to read nor can she."

The beast blinked. How was that possible? Despite his lack of reading, he understood the importance of at least being able to read. Over the course of his studies, he had read many different books with all his tutors explaining the consequences of not being able to read with his role as the future ruler of the province. How could Chantal not know how to read at least? A snippet of another conversation with Belle ran through his mind on the day he had given her the library. None of it made any sense.

He glanced down at the book. "Is…the book any good?"

Belle raised the book and ran her hand down the cover. "It's…a wonderful story. Full of adventure, magic and romance about King Arthur." She glanced up at him. "Would…you like to stay and read it with me?"

The beast shook his head. "Oh no I can't…I have to go."

Belle nodded. "But….may I ask why?"

"I….it's just been so long…that I…"

Once more Belle nodded, looking down at the book. "I know….it almost feels like I have to start over again too with learning to read. My father taught me when I was young, but then…"

The beast sighed and turned back to face her. "Belle?"

Belle looked away from him, unable to answer.

He took a deep breath. She seemed so venerable and frightened whenever she began to mention books and her life before she and Chantal had come to the castle. Tentatively, he reached out and took her hand. "Is something wrong?"

Belle glanced between him and their hands. Pulling away from him, she shook her head. "It's nothing….just…" She took a deep breath. "The place where she said she got hurt…there was a scary left from….where her father accidently hurt her. It…just never healed properly."

"_Accidentally_ hurt her?" The beast felt his blood biol. How could anyone accidently hurt a child let alone her own father? Chantal's scream echoed in his mind and his fingers curled into fists. The more he thought about, the worse his temper grew. Yet, he found that she held no anger in her eyes. He shook his head unable to think of such a thing. He had never witnessed anyone being touched so that physical scars were left behind. It took him a moment to find his voice.

So many questions were parched on his tongue, but only one escaped him. "When?"

"About…a year and a half ago. It was my fault really…."

"No, Madame…Belle how could that ever be your fault?"

More tears welled up in her eyes. "Yes…it is my fault!" She threw the book away and fell to the floor. "I know his temper at the disobedience. I had told her to go and play when we were doing chores….but it was such a beautiful day outside. When he came home…Chantal had a tree branch stuck in her arm after he had…." She paused, unable to continue.

The beast stared at her. He had winced at her description of Chantal's father, recognizing those same treats in himself. What could he do to help her? He had not meant to pry, but the story just kept coming as thought she had locked it away and now something had been unlocked inside of her. Soon her crying subsided and she took a deep breath and brushed the reminder of her tears away.

"Are you all right?...Should I call Mrs. Potts?" the beast asked uncertainly.

Belle did not seem to hear to him. For the second, it seemed as though she was unaware of his presence in the room. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing though her tears had stopped. Gradually, she pushed herself off the floor and moved over the divan. Something had changed about her; the fragile woman before him did not resemble the mother who had reassured and comforted her daughter only a few minutes ago. She seemed younger and older at the same time as she bowed her head and began to pray.

The beast shifted uncomfortably and looked around the room. His eyes fell on the discarded volume left on the floor. He moved over and picked up the book; it felt strange in his hands. He barely remembered his lessons, but he also felt a sort of sympathy for the woman before him. Maybe it was worth trying to relearn to read.

The beast took a step toward her, holding out the book. "I'll give it a try."

Belle glanced over at him. "What?"

"I'll…give it a try…reading."

Belle blinked and stood up. "Are you serious?"

The beast nodded. "Yes, but it's only a try. If I don't like it then we're done with the lessons."

Belle nodded. "Of course."

A strange, almost surprised and hopeful smile slid onto her face as she took the book from him. Their fingers brushed against each other and he felt a small swirl of warmth spread through his body. Yet, a moment later it had vanished. He tried to regain the feeling, but it was now beyond his grasp as he looked at the book.

Tentatively, Belle shifted over, making room for him.

The beast shook his head and grabbed one of the chairs. The chair felt small as his large, animal body between the armrests. He frowned and growled in frustration as he kept shifting his body to find a comfortable position. He glanced over at Belle, but she said nothing, her eyes locked on the book.  
"Is…that your favorite book?"

"It…used to be." She looked up at him. "You know…it will help if we sit closer together for the reading lessons."

The beast paused, the idea rolling around in his mind. It felt strange and nice to have her vocalize her opinions without being asked, but he did not want to frighten her. He sighed and nodded, understanding the wisdom in her words. Carefully, he stood from the chair and sat warily beside her on the divan. He saw her glance over at him before she turned back and opened the book.

The beast paused. "I thought you were further ahead?"

Belle smiled in amusement. "I…I was, but to learn how to read better we have to start from the beginning." She shifted the book until it was set between them and began to read.

XxX

A week and a half later, the beast found himself enchanted by the Arthurian story. He and Belle had spent a few hours each day reading while Chantal was at her singing lessons; sometimes he just listened as Belle read aloud while he sometimes gave it a try to read himself. It was during one of Belle's reading sections that he could not contain his excitement. "So that must mean he's the king!"

Belle paused and looked over at him. A tiny, assumed smile appeared on her face. "Wait and see."

The beast returned the gesture, though it felt awkward. In the last week and a half, he had seen small changes in her, as though she was gaining her confidence back. Neither of them spoke of her break down, but somehow he felt that something had changed between them. He kept watching her, but looked away as she glanced over at him.

"What is it?"

The beast sighed and gestured to the book. "It's…just you were right. The book takes me away for a little while allowing me to escape and forget who…what I am if only for a few hours."

Belle paused before she nodded. "I know what you mean….it's been so long for me too." She looked down at the book, her fingers running gingerly across the page. "Do…you remember when you said we had something in common."

The beast nodded. "Yes."

"In the town where I came from….the people think I'm odd or are jealous of…something that I have, so I am always _different_ from them." She took a deep breath and glanced over at him. "And I know how lonely that differance can be."

"What…about Chantal?"

"I have her yes and I love her, but…." She shook her head. "Oh never mind. Shall we continue?"

The beast sighed. Over the past few days, he had come used to her not finishing a thought when it bordered on revealing her past. It seemed as though she was shielding herself somehow from the truth though he could not put his finger on exactly what it was. He looked over at her, patiently waiting, and gestured for her to continue.

"For the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword while the people arose in a wondrous cheer. Young Arthur is king."

The beast smirked. "Told you so."

Belle smiled and closed the book after marking the page. "Well, I think that is enough for one day."

"But-"

"We will continue to tomorrow." Belle stood up and held the book against her chest and looked at him.

The beast shook his head. "I was right. You do have a way of telling stories and all right."

Belle hesitated. "Oh, thank you."

He nodded and left without another word. Closing the door, he turned around saw Chantal walking toward him. He gave a small wave, but she did not return the gesture. She paused and stared at him, something unnamable in her eyes. Could it be envy, pain, or something else? He watched silently as she walked and skirted around him, her eyes never leaving his face as though she accused him of some crime. She opened the door and slipped into the library and shut the door with a soft thud.

The beast stared at the closed entrance, unable to get the image of Chantal's accusing gaze out of his mind. Over the last week and half, she had become colder towards him whenever she saw him with that same piercing stare. He tried to understand what had changed, but could not think of a proper explanation. The beast sighed in frustration and shook his head. He could never understand children even Mrs. Potts son was a challenge to understand. Once more, he shook his head, turned, and walked down the empty corridor back to the West Wing unable to escape anymore from the harsh reality.

**Well there you go. I wanted Belle to reveal something about the nature of Gaston to the beast and I hope her reaction in the libary was not too over the top. Remeber she got married at fifteeen in mt timeline and while she has grown, there is still vanerability to her. And I thought it would be interesting to see it from an outsider's (the beast) pov. **

**Also and this is the case with many woman who suffer from abuse is that they will make excuses for their attackers or almost pretend like it didn't happen so I hope I'm showing that as truthfully as I can, but please let me know if you thought she was overtop in that scene? **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think, what worked, what didn't work? And keep an eye out for the next chapter though with school I am not making any promises.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Here is the new chapter. I know it's been a while since I posted and I'm sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted to give you something cause I might not be able to update until after my finals are done in December. I hope can update sooner, but here is just a little something to tide you over. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. Everything belongs to Disney. I have no BETAer, so any mistakes please feel free to piont them out. I hope you enjoy this chapter and again I'm sorry for the shortness.**

"Maman?"

Belle blinked and glanced over at Chantal, lying on the bed. "What is it, Sweetie?"

"I…my music lessons are going really well. Can I show you some time?" Chantal grabbed her hands and looked up hopefully at her.

Belle nodded. "Of course and I'm glad you enjoy it so much."

The little girl beamed with a rare large smile. "Oh I do, Maman." She yawned. "Oui I do." She turned and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

Belle gave a half hearted smile, slid out of bed, and walked over to one of the windows. Only a few torches, set up in the courtyard below, gave some illumination to the darkness outside the bedchamber window. Beyond the spiked towers, everything was lost into a dark void. She yearned to know what was going on beyond these stone walls as she fingered her wedding band again. Since, her meltdown, she nor the beast had spoken much about it, but it had stuck her at how little she had wondered about her husband. Was he even looking for them? She knew he preferred other woman sometimes, but surely their marriage still meant something to him.

She remembered earlier that evening she had just finished another reading section of _King Arthur_ with the beast. It had been almost cozy with the fire glowing in the hearth and a good story in her hands. It had almost felt like the days before her marriage and it felt unbelievable. A tiny smile peeked at the corners of her lips at remembering the time with the beast. He seemed to genuinely enjoy their time together after lunch and during Chantal's music lessons. His reading ability was coming along as was her own reconnection to the worlds created by the written word. She was so lost in thoughts that she did not notice Madame moving toward her.

"Is everything…." Madame yawned. "All right, dear?"

Belle turned and nodded. "Oh…yes, I was just thinking. Did I wake you?"

"Non, my dear, but you seemed to be thinking deeply about something and I just….thought it… urh… might be helpful if you talked about it." Madame gave a small soft nervous chuckle before she looked away almost embarrassed.

Belle took a step toward her. "That's very kind of you, but everything's fine, really."

Madame nodded and looked over at Chantal. "Well, she certainty seems better now. I've never seen her look happier than when she comes back from those lessons."

"I know." Belle felt her voice tremble. How was it be possible for Chantal to be happier here than in the village.

_You know why. He's not here_, a small voice whispered in her head.

_But he has to find us, we're his family_, Belle countered.

_Look at Chantal, she is finally happy_. Tenderness laced the voice's words.

Belle shook her head and tightened her grip on the ring. Could the little voice be right? The whole thing seemed too unbelievable. She almost chuckled; everything over the past few weeks would be unbelievable to the other villagers. A beast and all the objects which talked would be seen as figments of either the devil or the figments of her wild imagination. She shook her head again, knowing it was not a dream. Turning away from the window, she walked over and slipped back under the warm quilts.

Beside her, she felt Chantal roll over to face her. "Maman?"

"Oui, what is it?"

"When….when are we going to have Christmas?" Chantal yawned, but she looked at her expectantly.

Belle paused. "Oh, Sweetie, Christmas is not for a few more weeks."

Chantal shook her head. "No, it's in week and a half."

Belle yawned herself and closed her eyes. "I'll ask the beast about it. He….has never mentioned it."

"Papa would be getting the tree soon."

Belle reached over and stroked her hair. "I know….I'll talk to the beast tomorrow. Now get some sleep."

She heard Chantal yawn and felt her turn away from her again. Rolling onto her back, Belle stared up at the canopy without seeing it. A small smile curled at the corners of her lips at the idea of the Christmas in town. Everyone, even Gaston, got into the spirit of the holiday, decking their hone and the tavern with holly branches, candles, and other festive decorations. All the villagers helped in the celebrations with the fresh baked goods, the small peasants for the children, and the grand tree that glistened in the darkness with candles. It was a symbol of hope for the holiday and the upcoming New Year. She could see it all clearly in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, a rare smile on her face.

XxX

Belle hummed a little as she brushed out Philippe's coat. After the discussion with Chantal last night, she had needed time to think of a plan. Her routine afternoon ride had given her the chance, but still she could not come to a clear decision. The beast had never brought up the subject of Christmas, but he had seemed more irrigated over the last few days, even during their lessons. She sighed and ran her hands through her old companion's mane.

Leaning in, she whispered, "Well what do you think about Christmas? Should we have it?"

Philippe whined and bobbed his head.

Belle smiled. "You used to bring us our tree, didn't you my big boy?"

Once more, the horse nodded and moved his head, searching for a treat. Belle stroked his nose and shook her head. "I'm sorry…but I'm all out today. I can bring you some more tomorrow." With a quick kiss on the nose, she turned and left the stables.

Hanging up her cloak, she took a deep breath. How was she going to breach the topic? The rare smile retuned as she thought of the time of year. Surely the beast would do something for the holiday. Perhaps he had forgotten that it was almost here like she had done. She imagined going to get the tree together with Chantal and possibly the beast would join them.

As she walked through the corridors, her imagination began to expand at all the decorations and celebration the castle could have. A blush crept onto her cheeks as she realized her childish behavior, but she did not care. The holidays meant family and friends and had been the one time of the year Gaston was mostly nice to her. There was no yelling or anything, but a truce of peace between them.

"Are you all right, Madame?"

Belle stopped in her tracks and turned, spotting the tea cart coming toward her. "What? Oh, I'm fine, Mrs. Potts. Why do you ask?"

"Well, dear, I've just haven't seen that look on your face. You seem almost happy."

Belle's blush deepened and she averted her gaze. "Oh…I guess I'm just excited. Um…do you know where the Beast is?"

"Last I saw him, he was in the West Wing, but…he should be in the library soon. Now I have to go, this little one needs a bath." She gestured to Chip. "He and Chantal were playing God knows where and he got all dirty. And don't worry I set her up for her own bath with Madame."

Belle nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Potts. I will see you later."

Without another word, she turned and headed toward the library. Embossment filled her as she realized just how childish Mrs. Potts had seen her. Yet, something else struck her. Both Mrs. Potts and Madame had complimented on how happy they saw her and Chantal now since their arrival. Could something really be changing for them? She shook her head. No it was impossible, nothing had been going on. It was just the upcoming holiday that had they so elastic.

Turning a corner, she caught sight of the beast walking toward her. "Good afternoon, beast."

The beast raised his head, as though startled by her. "Oh..., hello Belle, how are you?"

"I'm…well thank you."

The beast shifted uncomfortably and gestured to the set of double doors. "Shall we."

Belle nodded. "Yes."

She waited as he opened the doors and gestured for her to enter. It still amazed her, it seemed like no matter how many times she entered the chamber, it still felt enchanting. Sunlight shone across the floor while the snow on the window ceils glistened outside. The fire was already burning quietly in the hearth. She felt the beast move closer behind her.

"Is everything all right?"

Belle glanced over her shoulder. "Yes, I'm sorry. I just love coming in here."

The beast nodded and walked over toward the divan with Belle following. Picking the volume off the table, she sat down and opened it, her hand resting on the page they had stopped at the previous day.

She pushed the book toward him. "So…would you like to read first?"

"I…I'm not very good. Why don't you read?"

Belle frowned. "You say that every day, but how will you learn or relearn if you don't try."

"I'm just not in the mood today."

She sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "All right."

She took up the story with King Arthur had just meant his soon to be wife Guinevere. The fair headed maiden who had been betrothed to him by the fates. As she read, she felt a half hearted smile slid onto her face. This had been her second view of love between people in a story before her marriage.

"Is everything okay?"

Belle looked up from the page. "Yes, I'm fine. It…I this was my second image of love besides the stories my father told me about him and my mother…." She lowered her eyes. "They loved each other and got married in the dead of winter."

"I always heard spring was the time for love."

Belle gave a light chuckle. "Yes, I suppose that's true, but I do love winter and all the snow. It makes the whole world seem magical."

The beast snarled. "I have enough…magic in my life."

Belle bit her lip. "Can…I ask you something?"

"You…know you can."

"Well…Chantal-I was wondering what you were planning to do for Christmas. It's-"

"Nothing." His voice was so low, she barely caught what he had said.

Belle stared at him. "What do you mean…nothing? You cannot do nothing for the holiday."

The beast stared into the fire, his claws curling to fists. "I…do not want to speak about this anymore."

"Why not?"

He turned on her. "We do not hold Christmas here. It is forbidden."

Belle blinked. "How can you-"

"I have forbidden it and we will not speak of this again. Do you understand?"

"But-"

"Do you understand?" The beast glared at her, his blue eyes danced with rage.

Belle gave a nod and watched as the beast stood and ran from the room, slamming the door behind him. She gulped as she heard the window panes tremble for a few seconds. For a moment, she just stared after room, the book lying open on her lap. Those fierce eyes still startled her as she tried to push the image away. Even Gaston, in his most furious state, had never taken Christmas from her. Carefully, she closed the book, set it back on the table, and walked out of the library.

Walking down the silent corridors, she could no longer see the decorations of the season. Only the normal, depressing gray walls surrounded her. A few gargoyles watched her with sadden eyes as though the castle itself felt it was missing something. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. How could she have messed up and just upset him so? What was it about the Christmas that caused the need to forbid it? Millions of questions raced through her mind as she continued to walk, not paying any attention to her destination.

Soon, she found herself outside of the kitchen. Her stomach gave a small growl as she pushed open the door. The familiar warmth of the fire and the aroma of fresh food filled the air as she took a few steps further into the room. Instantly, she saw Mrs. Potts hovering over a tub of water, watching her teacup son getting his bath.

She glanced up and smiled as Belle approached. "Well, hello, dear. How are you? Did you find the Master?"

Belle nodded and placed her hands on the counter. "Mrs. Potts…I was wondering is. He always…I mean is the season…has Christmas always been forbidden?"

Mrs. Potts blinked as though she hadn't heard. "What did you say, Dear?"

"I…asked the beast if the castle was doing anything for the holiday and he got tense and said it was forbidden. Do you know why?"

Mrs. Potts moved away the tub, closer to her. "Dear….I wish you had told me that was why you were looking for him. I would have warned you not to mention it to the master. He gets very testy when anyone brings up that time."

"I noticed, but why I mean it is Christmas even my husband gets into the spirit."

Mrs. Potts bowed her head. "It's not my place to say, Dear."

Belle sighed, fingering her necklace. "Chantal asked for this one thing….and now I can't…."

"I know what you mean, Dear. It's just personal with the master at this time of the year and it's best not get him upset."

"But…." She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears.

"Oh there now. It's going to be all right it's not the end of the world is it?"

Belle shook her head. "No and I'm grateful that you told me, Mrs. Potts."

"I….could try and talk to him if you wished."

Belle gave a half hearted smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Potts."

**So here is the first mention of Christmas with the beast. I hope otwas good. I also wanted to give Belle and Chantal a scene just between them since the marriage and Chantal are the biig changes to the story. Oh yes I know a lot of my Belle scenes are her reflecting, but since she was married to someone like Gaston and not able to voice her thoughts she would become a more internal person rather than the Belle in the movie who spoke her head all the time. **

**And also with the detail abotu Gaston around Christmas I just wanted to add that to give a little more demention to his character instead of someone who is just 100% evil and is that all the time. It's not much, but it's something. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think. :) **


	20. Chapter 20

**Here it is the next chapter. I'm so sorry for the delay but with school and everything going on, it's been hectic around here. I did want to get something out for you, my faithful readers to enjoy and here it is. I own nothing, but Chantal and the changes in the plot.** (**Note) I changed a little bit at the end, which will play a bigger part later in the story**). **I hope you enjoy this chapter**.

Once more, the beast found himself pacing the length of his chamber. It had been three days since the argument with Belle in the library and still nagged at him. Why did she have to ruin their time together? All month long, he had tried to avoid even the smallest thought about that day. In the beginning, Mrs. Potts had reassured him the pain of the day would pass. Yet, each December he felt the pain of his damned mistake all those winters ago. He had tried to shove the memories away, but the argument had only brought them back.

Since then, he had taken to the solitude of his chambers, knowing she would not come unless called. Even the child had not ventured up for her music lessons. Was she upset with him too? The beast paused and glanced outside at the falling snow. If only those flakes could bury and kill his memories as they did the earth. Everything seemed so unfair. Frustration pulsed through him as he turned and walked into the music chamber.

Master Forte's low, dull melodies surrounded him as he moved and sat in front of the hearth. Staring into the fire, he could see the curtsied event playing out in front of him. It seemed as though it happened only a day ago, but the rose told another story. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the armchair; the crackling of the fire and the music were the only sounds to break the silence.

"The music helps my old friend?" Master Forte asked.

The beast did not turn to him, but nodded. "Yes, the music allows me to forget, unlike her."

Master Forte paused. "Oh….does the woman enjoy the season?"

A low grovel rumbled in his throat. "Yes."

"Woman are the more emotional beings, Master."

The beast growled again. "Damn, their emotions, they just get in the way. Now play some more."

Forte smiled. "Of course, Master."

The melody had just begun when the beast's ears perked. Carefully, he stood and peered out toward the door, which stood ajar.

His eyes narrowed "Who's there?"

"It is, Master, Lumiere I had hoped….I might have a word with you." The candelabra hoped up on torn piece of furniture.

The beast shook his head. "If you are on the same mission as Mrs. Potts than do not waste our time and leave."

Lumiere pressed his two candle hands together. "Master, I understand you're frustration, but….surely just this once-"

"No!" The beast turned and strode over to the bell jar. His paw rested on the glass as he stared at the rose. "Do remember what happened that day, Lumiere? Why make us relive it for the sake of a stupid party?"

"Of course, I remember Master. There is no here who doesn't, but the girl and the mother do not know, why blame them?"

"You know we cannot tell them."

"Oui, Master, but can you at least try…."

The beast's ears perked once more as he moved out onto the balcony. The gray clouds had vanished, allowing the early afternoon sun to shine across the winter landscape. Fresh powdered snow felt cool against his far as he stared out, trying to find the sound which had interrupted their conversation. He felt Lumiere hop up beside him, surveying the area as well. The beast's eyes squinted as he looked down and saw two figures walking through the snow toward the frozen lake.

"What are they doing?"

Lumiere clapped his candle arms together. "Oh it looks like they are going skating."

The beast stared at him questioningly. "What?"

"Oh it was a fun pastime during your father's reign during the winter season. Don't you remember?"

The beast averted his gaze and stared out toward the lake. "No…I don't."

Yet, in truth, he did remember. As a child, he had been kept locked inside with his studies with his numerous tutors and servants while his parents dealt with the affairs of the kingdom. According his mother, it was considered unseemly for the heir to venture out during the winter season unless it was political business.

It was on one of those outings, he had first seen a group of children ice skating. It had perplexed him, but also excited him. Yet, his parents had forbidden it, claiming it was only for the peasant children, not for him and had ridden off to see some baron or ambassador. During the celebrations, he had snuck up to the balcony and watched as the other courtiers' children skate while he could only watch. The disappointment and pain had overwhelmed him as he had watched from afar, forbidden by his own parents.

Lumiere rested one of his candle arms on his paw. "Would you deny them such little joys?"

The beast blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know, Master."

He nodded as his gaze followed Belle and the child. His eyes softened as he remembered her hurt gaze staring back at him when he had forbidden any celebration. She had not cried, but her eyes had held an almost painful disbelief, which was worse than He took a deep breath, turned, and silently left the chamber.

XxX

"So what are we doing?' Chip asked from his place in Chantal's hand.

Belle turned and smiled. "We're going to skating. We'll be gliding across the frozen lake surface with sharp blades on our boots."

Chantal held up her own skates with her left hand. "See. Mama, who was the inventor who came up the idea for skates?"

Belle tied her own skates on and looked over at her. "I don't know ask your Grandpre…." Her voice trailed off as she moved closer. "Oh I'm sorry, Chantal but look lets have fun with Chip and show him how to skate, okay?"

Chantal glanced up at her and nodded. "Oh yes." She looked down at Chip. "You'll enjoy it I know it."

Belle stood up and held out her hand to her. Slowly, the trio gilded out onto the ice. She tightened her grip on Chantal's hand and skated her and Chip around. Small cries of laughter seemed to echo across the lake. Belle gave a half hearted smile as she watched the children. As a child, she remembered her and her father finding a Christmas tree and skating long into the night after a long day of work. Gaston had never taken apart in their merriment unless it involved the tavern and a bunch of his friends. Yet, it was the beast who forbad the celebration of Christmas. None of it made sense to her, but she could bring herself to tell Chantal the truth. Since their argument, she had not seen or heard from the beast

Is he all right? Maybe he just needs a few more…. Her thoughts trailed off as she felt herself halt and Chantal tugging on her arm.

"Mama, look." Chantal pointed back toward the bank.

Belle turned and saw the beast's large figure coming toward them. He seemed uncertainty as though he was not sure his intention for coming. Was he coming to make things better or scold her for being outside? Quietly, she ushered Chantal and Chip away before she skated over to the river bank.

She gave a small hesitant wave as he approached. "Good…. Afternoon, Beast."

The beast blinked. "Oh…good afternoon, Belle."

Belle bit her lip as an awkward silence fell around them. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Was there something you wanted?"

The beast shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I…I saw you and Chantal heading out here and…"

"Oh…I thought this was still on the castle grounds. I didn't mean…" Her voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"Oh no, it's fine…I was wondering if we might talk about what happened in the library"

Belle felt her eyes lower onto the ground. Would she have to tell Chantal that Christmas was not going to happen? A heavy weight seemed to fall onto her shoulders as she imagined the crushed stare of Chantal at the news. She gulped and glanced over at the children skating around in a small circle.

"Could we…talk about it later?"

She felt the beast nod before turned back to hear his response. "Yes…Of course then I'll see you later."

He turned to go, his shoulders slumped as if defeated.

"Wait." The beast turned back to her. "Would…you like to join us?"

Behind her, Belle heard the skates sketching to a halt; an almost palpable anticipation filling the cold air around the group.

The beast ran his paw through his fur and averted his eyes. "I'm not…sure."

Belle took a step forward. "I can teach you if you like."

His blue eyes found hers, a tiny spark of amusement shone. "You…have been doing that a lot."

Belle gave a small smile. "It's no trouble and you are too."

The beast nodded and moved closer to the river's edge. "Will it collapse?"

Chantal chuckled. "No, it's ice."

"Go for it, Master. It's fun!" Chip cried, a large smile on his face.

Chantal laughed and nodded before she and Chip were off again, skating across the lake. Belle watched as the beast slide onto the lake, testing it out before he found his balance on the slippery surface. Slowly, she moved over his side and took his paw. With gentle guidance, they began to walk away from the bank. Through her gloved hand, she felt his muscles tense as they continued. Had he truly never skated before and had no Christmas? What else had he missed out on as a child? She peered at him out of the corner of her eye, and sighed. In some ways he seemed just like a child, who had grown up to fast. Yet, he was a quick leaner for skating.

As the beast gained more confidence, Belle found herself letting go of him a little more as time passed and soon the beast was skating circles around her. She smiled at his enthusiasm at the new skill as he skated over to Chantal. In an almost silent conversation, Chantal had slipped her hand in his and began skating together. Belle felt a lump in her throat as she watched them. It seemed strange, but right at the same time the longer she watched. After a moment, the beast moved away from Chantal and skated over to her.

Belle blushed. "You…looked great with her."

The beast shifted nervously. "I don't know about that. May…I…can we go…"

Belle nodded, understanding before he finished the sentence. He lifted her arm and glided her around until her back was to him. She felt him take her other hand, his strong paws reassuring her that she would not fall. As though reading each others' mind, they began to skate around the lake together. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself flying over the land with her husband by her side. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced up at the beast who was not her husband. A blush of guilt swam into her cheeks as she inwardly crossed herself for such thoughts. How could she be feeling this way? It was not natural. Gaston, the father of her child, was who she was meant to be with. Yet, why has Gaston not come

Her thoughts were cut off as she and the beast lost their balance and plowed into a new by snow bake.

Belle gasped as she broke through the snow, surprise etched onto her face. How had that happened? Beside her, she heard the beast grunt in annoyance as he shook his head, freeing his fur from the snow. Following his lead, she shook the wet snow away and glanced over at Chantal and Chip, who were skating toward them.

"Are you all right, Maman?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, Chantal. I-"

"Oh look, Maman." Chantal moved over and plopped herself in the snow and began to open and close her arms in a pattern.

Belle chuckled and fell back into the snow again, copying the motions. "I forgot about those."

After a moment, Chantal scrambled to her feet. "Look, Maman, it's beautiful."

Belle got up and looked over at the shape in the ground. "Yes, it is very pretty, Sweetie."

"What is it?" Chip asked, looking at the shape questionably.

Chantal chuckled. "It's a Christmas angel, silly. The ones you make yourself become your personal angels and carry one wish up to God for him to grant if you've been good the whole year. Isn't that right, Maman?"

Belle ruffled her hair. "Yes, it is."

She glanced over at the beast that had come up beside her. He ran his paw through his fur nervously and gestured to his own creation in the snow. The pattern in the snow was deformed and rough around the edges with no definitive shape. "This…is no Christm- no angel. It's the shadow of a monster."

His face twisted and rage flew into his eyes. A harsh growl escaped from his mouth as he flew at the shape and destroyed it before he stormed back toward the castle. Belle felt Chantal move to her side, shivering in fear. Belle wrapped her arm around her shoulders, but did not avert her gaze from where the beast had stood. Quietly, she whispered into the silence. "You aren't a monster."

XxX

After settling Chantal down for a nap, Belle wondered around the castle. It was quiet as she walked through the endless corridors. Chantal's chatter about the Christmas angel echoed in her head. How could she let her daughter down on something which meant the world to her? Yet, she could not go against the master of the castle either. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. What could she do? Closing her eyes, she remembered the beast's warm paws around her hands as they had skated. Her fingers fiddled with her necklace, the wedding band feeling cold against her skin. Why had Gaston not come yet? He would allow them to have even a small celebration with her family traditions. A small smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. Quickly, she turned and headed back into the heating room beneath the castle.

The chamber was alive with activity as she entered. Heat swirled around the otherwise cool room, the brick walls allowing the warmth to seep through the stones to the rest of the castle. Numerous objects were hopping about in a factory fashion, delivering the wood to the furnace while others brought in freshly cut wood. Quietly, Belle wondered over to the fresh pile of logs and asked permission to browse through. The head of the workers nodded without looking at her and continued his work. Belle thanked him and began to look for the perfect log. It had been the one tradition from her childhood Gaston had allowed her to maintain through their marriage.

Climbing up the pile, she leaned over and picked one of the logs, a smile on her face. It was perfect for Christmas Eve. She blew dust away and began to polish it with her sleeve. A sudden wave of silence fell over the staff members as the beast entered the chamber. Unconsciously, she held the log behind her back, averting her eyes as the beast stepped closer.

"I…was looking for you, Belle. I was wondering if we…could talk about the…"His eye squinted in suspicion as he straightened himself. "What are you hiding?"

Belle bit her lip and brought the log out from behind her back. "It's a Yule log that's burned on Christmas…" The beast frowned at the word. She took a step toward him. "It's a wonderful tradition. You pick a log, everyone in the house touches it and makes a Christmas wish."

The beast mumbled. "Wishes are stupid. They never come true. You made a wish last year, is this what you wished for?" His voice echoed around the chamber as he stared at her.

Belle shook her head. "No, but I will keep wishing. Gaston would allow me to have this?"

The beast growled and his voice rose in frustration. "I am not him."He gestured to the log. "And what is this?"

Belle took a breath. "It's a compromise. If I cannot have a party than the least you can give me is having this one tradition with Chantal and able a small party."

"I told you I have forbidden it."

Belle glared at him. "I am not asking much. How can you be so selfish?"

The beast growled. "You cannot possible understand what's like to lose everything. To be trapped in your own castle…to be a…a-prinsoner."

Belle closed her eyes and sighed. He was right, even in the castle she and Chantal were not prisoners. She had lost many things, her childhood, her sons, and now Christmas. Her hand flew to her necklace. Was she a prisoner? She shook her head. No, she had never been a prisonor. With some confidance, she raised her head and looked at the beast. "Even if you have a tough time, you cannot just crawl away and die. You need something to lift your spirits. Please….can't I have just a small party, you won't even know it's going on."

The beast's eyes grew wide and he debated the options. Finally, he nodded. "Very well, you and Chantal may have your holiday just as long as I am not involved."

Belle smiled and nodded. "Oh thank you, Beast." With a squeeze of his paw, she walked out of the chamber, returning with a joyous and confused heart to Chantal.

**(I know it's not a huge change, but it will play a bigger part in the story later, I promise.) There it is. I I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. With the release of the Enchanted Christmas movie, I thought these two scenes would work very well. And yes Belle does not fully accept Gaston's "abuse" as being a prisoner in her marriage, but still loves her daughter. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know in a review what you thought. More coming soon, but not before the 2oth of Dec. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Well here it is. As I prmised on the 20th of Dec. Once again I have no BETAer and all the chatacters exceot for Chantal belong to Disney. I hope you enjoy it. **

"Are you really having Christmas?" Chantal asked as she looked into another box of decorations.

Belle nodded as she reassured her for twelfth time that morning. The news of the party had made Chantal's spirits soar the evening before. Rising early, she and Belle had begun planning the small party details, even the servants joined in with their ideas for the holiday season. Belle sighed. She saw the spark in everyone's eyes as they discussed the party arrangements; it was as though the whole castle felt the magic of the special time of year. Why did the beast shut himself away from the festivities that brought so much joy to everyone else? He let them have their celebration, but did not wish to take any part in it. What could have caused such hatred for the season?

The servants only mentioned brief snippets of insight but none of it made any sense except it had something to do with his childhood. Belle tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and picked up another box of decorations. She heard Cogsworth's voice bouncing off the walls as he directed the other servants to one of the smaller conference rooms, the declared space for the party.

Belle almost laughed at the treatment of the holiday like a business meeting with a clear, strict schedule. Half the fun of the holiday was the random memories which created the memories that lasted. Carefully, she walked down the stairs and paused at the door, watching the servants dashing to and fro in front of her. Every so often, one of them glanced her way with a smile as though they knew she was responsible for bringing the holiday to the dark castle.

Belle felt a smile creep on her face. _I'm surprised the beast hasn't heard any of this? _

As if hearing her thoughts, Cogsworth stepped further out into the hallway and clapped his hands together. "Okay, everyone remember to keep quiet that is the deal here. Now hurry up brings those boxes to the conference room."

"They're going as fast as they can, Cogsworth. And Christmas isn't for a few more days."

Cogsworth shook his head. "Madame, you have to be strict with them or they will become lazy and will not get anything done."

Belle grimaced, familiar words running through her head. How many times had her husband called her and Chantal similar things when they had not completed their work on any given day? Looking across the hall and out a window, she saw her father's face from her childhood. He had never been afraid to scold her but he also encouraged her, making her work harder. She tore her eyes away from the window and looked back down at Cogsworth. "You know, Cogsworth, if you were to encourage them and praise them for the work they are performing maybe they will have the incentive to work and move faster."

Cogsworth paused, thoughtful. "Encouragement and praise? Well you could be right, I-"

"What's this, have you forgotten to keep our time, you old clock?"Lumiere held one his candle arms against his forehead and looked down at his other arm. "Oh non daure you have a fever, of forgetting the time, you should get some rest."

Cogsworth batted the candle arms away. "Oh really what about you, your flames are out have you finally lost all your wax?"

Belle hid her smirk as she slipped past them as they tow began another one of their famous arguments. In a strange way, they reminded her of young boys who could not stop their bickering though it was clear they were found of each other. A sharp pain filled her stomach, but she tried to ignore it as she turned and entered the conference room. _I'm probably straining myself with this box. _

She set the box down and looked around the room. In only a few hours, the chamber had begun to change. The table and chairs had been pushed back against the walls, allowing for a small dancing area. Fresh garlands hung over the small fireplace and around the frames of the window. All the wood had begun to be polished and shinned. It was a small improvement, but for the first time she felt like the party was really going to occur. A small since escaped her as the pain returned. She glanced over to her left at the sound of Mrs. Potts hopping toward her.

"Are you all right Belle?"

Belle nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Oui, I think so. I may just be tired."

Mrs. Potts hopped closer. "Are you certain?"

Once more, she nodded. "Oui, I'm fine." She turned away and began to open the box, pulling out more colorful decorations.

As the morning gave way into afternoon, the servants left the room until only Belle, Mrs. Potts, Chantal, and Chip remained. Each quietly worked on their own projects in donning the room with a festive feel. Belle listened as the children worked together to hang one of the wreaths on the wall.

Once, they were finished, Chantal looked over at her. "Maman, do think we're gonna get any presents this year?"

"Of course, Chantal, there will be some presents for Christmas."

Chip hopped down from the chair. "Presents?"

Chantal chuckled. "Yeah, presents that St. Nick brings for us each year, doesn't he visit you?"

An awkward silence fell between them as Chip averted his eyes. Chantal glanced over at Belle, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Belle looked down at her, but said nothing. How could she explain any of it to her when she was uncertain herself? Behind her, she heard Mrs. Potts hopping over until she was beside her son.

A warm, optimistic smile spread across her face as she stared down at him. "There, now, Chip, you know why we have never celebrated Christmas before, but things are changing. St. Nick will come this year."

"Really, Mama?"

"Of course, Dear." Mrs. Potts nuzzled him and smiled. "I promise."

Chip returned her smile and looked over at Chantal. "So, does everyone get presents from St….Jick?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, they do and it's St. Nick."

Chip lowered his eyes though he was blushing. "Ops, sorry. So, even the Master gets one?"

Once more, Belle nodded. "Yes, even the master receives a gift on Christmas. So, what are you two gonna give for Christmas?"

Chantal paused in her rummage of more decorations. She thought for a moment, clapped her hands, and ran toward the door. She paused and beckoned Chip to follow her before he turned and ran down the corridor, out of sight. Belle sighed and shook her head. Children were defiantly a mystery at times. She turned and watched Mrs. Potts wondering back over to her own work in the corner. A pang of regret and guilt swam into her as the exchange between mother and son replayed in her mind. Mrs. Potts had been so genuine with Chip in telling him the truth and was just very connected to her child. Something Belle seemed incapable of being. Once more, she felt that sharp pain her stomach as she leaned back against the wall and surveyed the chamber. Everything was coming along nicely.

Mrs. Potts hoped over to her. "So…what are you going to give the Master?"

Belle blinked, surprise evident on her face. "Oh…I…don't know." In truth, she had not even thought about it. Despite all the time they had spent together, she felt as though she barely knew him at all. He never spoke of himself of interests or any hobbies. Biting her lip, she turned to look at the teapot. "I don't know him well enough, do you have any ideas?"

Mrs. Potts thought. "Well…I knew him more as a child, but those things wouldn't interest him now. What types of things to you get or receive from your husband? Maybe that would give you an idea."

"The beast and my husband are completely different Mrs. Potts. I doubt they would have the same interest in gifts."

Mrs. Potts nodded. "Well then…I do know he likes it when you two read together, perhaps a story or something."

"He has an entire library how can I get him something he does not already have?"

"I meant perhaps you could wrote a story, Belle."

Belle shook her head. "Oh, Mrs. Potts, I could not, I do not have that kind of talent to do such a thing."

Mrs. Potts nodded, but turned hopping over to the door. "You never know unless you try. I'll see you at lunch."

Without another word, she hopped onto the waiting cart and rolled away back to the kitchen. Belle stared after her, the words of advice rolling over in her mind. Could she truly write an original narrative to give as a real gift for the beast? It was true, he did for the most part enjoy their time together in the library, but did that mean anything? A small smile spread across herself as she felt herself nod. Her father used to tell her similar things as a child. She took a deep breath, pushed herself off the floor, and began the search for some paper. Pulling open one of the desk doors, she smiled at the sight of a fresh pile of paper stacked inside. Maybe she could write something.

XxX

Another ball of paper landed with the other discarded ones on the floor. All of it was garbage, uncreative and meaningless. The sun cast shadows across the chamber in the afternoon light. Lunch and come and went without much interaction except Mrs. Potts giving her an encouraging smile as she left with the empty trays. Belle sighed, running her hand through her hair in frustration. Mrs. Potts had been wrong. How could she come up with a silly story? Belle bit her lip as Gaston's words echoed in her mind.

_Creativity is for the weak and lazy who are not practical in life. _He had even made fun of her father's inventions when he thought he was just among friends. Why had she even thought she could write a story? The more she thought about it, the more laughable and heartbreaking it become.

Laying the pen aside, she stared down at the fresh blank parchment. It was impossible to come up with an idea. An image of the massive library filled with volumes entered her mind. How did the authors of those novels do it? Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what she had enjoyed about reading. Each story took her away from this world their magical worlds were filled with the impossible. Adventures waited around each page. Heroes overcame their deepest sores and allowed them to conquer their sorrows.

They gave her the chance to escape and connect with the characters also like they were old friends of mermaids, kings or heroes. As a child, she had come up with many intricate stories with such characters, but they had been snatched away just like her books. She opened her eyes and took another deep breath. Who was she fooling? She could never write such masterpieces, certainly not in time for Christmas if ever. Once more, she took a deep breath and picked up the pen, when the sound of increasing laughter echoed down the corridor.

She raised her head, turned and saw Chantal and Chip coming into the room. A small smile rose on her face as she stood up. "So there you are and what have you two been up too?"

Chantal gave a mischief smile. "Nothing…it's a surprise for Christmas."

"Ah, well I wouldn't want to spoil a Christmas surprise. Did you and Chip get lunch?"

Chantal nodded. "Oui, Maman. And what were you doing?" She gestured over the pile of wrinkled paper.

Belle bit her lip and shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing I…." She paused as Chip whispered something in Chantal's ear. "What is it?"

The children looked embarrassed as though they had been caught doing something. Taking a step forward, Chantal said, "You know we have everything here for Christmas except a tree."

"Oh well we can go and look right now. I'm sure there are some good ones on the grounds."

Chip made a face and shook his head. "Nah, not any good ones, but Monsieur Forte had an idea?"

Belle raised her eyebrows. "Monsieur Forte?"

"Oh, oui, Maman and he wanted to see you." Chantal ran back over toward the door, beckoning her mother and Chip to follow.

The small group made their way through the numerous corridors with Chip and Chantal chatting along the way. Soon, they came to base of the staircase of the West Wing and Belle paused. Despite the compromise between them, she was uncertain in her wondering through his private chambers without him having called her. The beast's temper always seemed so tender with him acting like a child only to turn his fierce temper on her. _He's learning to control that, but still… _She bit her lip as her rose toward the old chamber.

Suddenly, the sound of music began to float down the stairs; its strong melody seemed to enchant both the children as they dashed up the stairs almost two at a time. Belle sighed and followed them, the music growing louder with each step as she entered the West Wing. Gradually, the music faded away as Belle turned and walked into the large music room. She spotted Chantal and Chip near the keyboard of the pipe organ as though they had been the ones playing.

Belle smiled and bowed her head, slightly. "Good afternoon, Monsieur Forte, how are you this fine day?"

The pipe organ opened his eyes and a tiny boy of his own. "Ah, Madame, good afternoon. I'm so pleased that you could come. Little Chantal has been telling me you have been very busy with the master lately."

"Only when she is taking her music lessons, Maestro. And I understand you wanted to see me, is Chantal behaving herself during your lessons?"

Again Forte nodded. "Oui, she is a young angel with a voice to match. I only wanted to see if what Chantal was saying is true. Have you begun decorating for Christmas."

"Yes, that's right."

"Well it's that just a spindled idea." He paused, thoughtful. "I wonder have you gotten a tree yet?"

Belle shook her head. "We were just about to go search the grounds for one."

Chip turned around to face her. "I told you, Belle, all those trees are awful. Why can't we go look somewhere else?"

Belle sighed and ran her hand behind her neck. "I wouldn't know where else to look, Chip? And I promised your master not to leave the castle grounds, I gave my word."

"Oh…that's such a shame. You know it wasn't until the tree was gotten that the master really got into the Christmas spirit as a child. And I know he really wants to celebrate the season."

Belle corked an eyebrow. "He kept telling me he never wanted to have anything to do with the holiday season."

"His memories of his last Christmas are certainly painful, but I know he wants to move on, even if he says otherwise."

Belle felt her hand slid across her stomach, keeping the tears at bay. She knew that pain all too well herself. Could getting the tree really help get the beast into the spirit of Christmas again? She had to try at least. Yet, where could they find a good tree?

As reading her mind, Forte gestured toward the window. "The best trees were normally found in the black forest. Perhaps you should try there."

Belle peered out the window. The looming woods stood in dark shadow, unwelcoming to unknown travelers. She glanced over at Chantal and shivered, remembering what had happened when Chantal had run away. In some ways, she wished Gaston was here, he had been able to keep any beast away and would be able to protect them if anything went wrong. His skill as the best hunter in the village had been earned for a reason. Yet, if he had been such a skilled tracker why had he not found them yet? None of it made sense.

She glanced down as Chantal tugged on her skirt. "Oh, please Maman can't we go. Papa would let us."

Belle sighed, patted her head and forced a smile. "Oui, all right if we take Philippe and a sleigh we should be back before dark." She turned to the pipe organ. "Merci, Monsieur Forte for the idea, you will keep it a secret won't you?"

Once more, Forte nodded. "Of course, Madame. The master shall have a best surprise of the year."

**Okay so one of the things I changed was Belle writing the story. In the Enchanted Christmas (yes I know it is a disney movie, but still) she is done writing a book in only a few hours. I wanted to give it more a realistic approach and also since Gaston basically drained any imagintion she had through her marriage, it would be harder still. '**

**Also I changed it so that it does not take place on Christmas Eve for a reason. Anyway please let me know what you think fo this chapter and I know I am kind of going a little slow with this story, but Ido try to keep the fact that Belle is married a key thing to the story even when Gaston is not in the story and I hope am I doing that well enough. Again please review and let me know what you think, I promise you more will becoming soon. :) **


	22. Chapter 22

**Here is a late chapter for the holiday (but hey I got it out by New Years, that's something right). I don't own anything except Chantal and the plot twists. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

As the day drew on, the beast found himself wondering aimlessly through the castle. The whole palace seemed empty and alive at the same time. There was a sense of excitement in the air, but most of the corridors still remained quiet, everyone knowing to keep the celebration out of his view. He had seen and heard the servants, at a distance, chattering together all day, probably on the subject of Christmas. His claws curled into fists as he tried to block out all reference to the holiday from his mind. Despite the compromise, he was still not completely convinced it had been the correct decision. It felt strange, he remembered the Christmases with his parents and the court, mostly happy memories, only to have his thoughts turn to that cursed Christmas Eve.

Yet, he had seen Belle's eyes light up a little after his promise allowing for her small party, something he had rarely seen. If one day meant so much to her than what harm could it do to allow her and her child to enjoy it even without him. Yet, the longer he walked around, the more decorations his sharp eyes and keen noise picked up.

Holly branches and other greenery hung along the walls and colorful candles were set in and lighting the darkest corners. He averted his gaze, trying again to block out the festive look. What was so great about the holidays anyway? All the decorating and planning for just one day a year, what good came from that? None of it made sense to him. He sighed in frustration and tuned to return to his chamber. Yet, the sound of a cart rolling toward him cut him off as Mrs. Potts came into the view.

She gave a small bow as the cart approached him. "Oh good evening, Master. How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine. Still not big on this whole Christmas idea."

"Oh I understand, Master, but I know Madame Belle and little Chantal love it. It was very generous act."

The beast gave a small nod. It had been his conversation with Lumiere the previous day that had encouraged him in allowing the celebration in the first place. He paused and looked at his old nurse. "Um…Mrs. Potts, where are they? Belle did not come to the library today. Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, Master, she and Chantal are just getting ready."

His eyebrows rose. "It's a week until….."

"I know, Master, but they are just getting ready. After all that's part of the fun of the holiday."

He shook his head and paused as he looked at the cart. A stack of wrinkled and torn paper lay across the carts' surface. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he gestured to them with his paw. "And what's this, some commoners' decorations?"

Mrs. Potts chuckled. "Goodness, no, Sire. Belle left these in the conference room when she went out with Chip and Chantal." She lowered her voice, though a smile crept into her voice. "I believe she was trying to make you a Christmas present."

Once more the beast shook his head. "A what?"

"A Christmas present, Master. Oh now listen to me, I have go and begin supper. Good evening, Master." She gave a small bow as the cart rolled down the corridor until it was out of sight.

He stared after the cart, confusion clouding his mind. A gift, she was trying to make him a gift. What kind of gift would she give him? Yet, the question did not seem to matter as much. The fact that she had tried to make him something seemed to override his normal bitter and suspicious nature. And she had done it without a command, but out of the goodness of her own heart. Something seemed to trigger in his own heart as it warmed with gratitude.

He smiled to himself. The woman was certainly a mystery to him. Could he do something like that for her? He had already given Belle the library and Chantal the singing lessons she wanted. What could he give them now? His mind kept racing with possible ideas as he walked back through the corridors.

The beast paused and looked out one of the dark windows. "Cogsworth!"

Only moments later, he heard the awkward walk of wood against carpet as the head of the house hold staff halted before him. Breathlessly, he panted. "Ahem….you bellowed, Sire."

The beast nodded without looking at him. "Yes, I wanted to know if you had any thoughts on what…I could give Belle and Chantal."

"Well…there's flowers, chocolates and other items like that."

The beast shook his head. "No….never mind just find Belle and Chantal and send them up to the West Wing."

Cogsworth bowed. "Of course, Master. They were just out getting a tree."

The beast frowned. "What you mean?"

"Oh, they went out looking for a tree to put in the conference room for…." His voice trailed off as the beast shook his head. "I something wrong….?"

His question faded away as the beast turned and charged down the passageway back to his chambers. No, it was not possible. He would have seen them at some point on his walk through the castle. There were not enough trees for them to be gone this late into the evening. His paws skidded across the marble floor as he quickened his pace, his rage growing with each step. He barged into the West Wing and picked up the mirror, yelling for the woman's location. A green flash filled with mirror until it cleared. A horse drawn sleigh being pulled in the dark forest with two passengers donned in red winter cloaks huddled together for warmth.

His blood boiled as he slammed the mirror back on the table. "I will bring them back!"

He turned and stormed into the music room to retrieve his cloak.

Forte stared at him, confused. "What's wrong, Master?"

"Belle and Chantal left and are in the forest. I'm going to bring them back."

"Master, why go after them for abandoning you? You allowed them to have their little party, but that wasn't enough for them. They were waiting to gain enough freedom so they could leave you and return to their precious husband and father."

The beast growled and shook his head. Could it be true? Had he given them enough freedom that they just abandoned him like so many others in his life? Once more, his claws curled in fists as images of him and Belle ran through his mind. Was her fondness for him like one had for an animal? She followed his orders, but rarely seemed to enjoy her time with him except in the library. Was she just bidding her time until the child was well enough to travel and return to her damned, beautiful husband? Yet, an image of Chantal's fragile body in the snow and Belle's frightened gaze crept into his mind and he shivered. She had gotten lost and was almost the wolves' dinner. What if that happened again? The forest even under his father's reign had been known for the dangerous creatures that lurked in the shadows waiting for fresh meat.

"No." He mumbled to himself. Despite his rage, a sense of concern outweighed his hurt as he grabbed his torn cloak, throw it over his shoulders, and headed for the door.

"Master, wait! What if this is a trap?"

The beast paused and glanced over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"The little girl kept telling me how her father was a great hunter. What if he finds you? Are you willing it risk for the sake a woman who only loves her husband?"

He shook his head. "Never mind that, Forte. They have to be brought back."

Without another word, he dashed out of the chamber, down the stairs and to the front doors. The snowy courtyard felt cold beneath his feet as he stepped out in the evening and sniffed the air. He paused, his eyebrows knit together. When Chantal had left, he had immediately picked up her scent even through the falling snow. Yet, time had dulled their scent, carried away by the winter wind. He felt his keen eyes adjusting quickly to the near darkness as he gazed around the empty yard. Only a few sparse torches illuminated the courtyard from their brackets.

Curiously, he looked down at the snow for any trace of footprints ore anything that would aid him in the search. Nothing caught his attention until he noticed thin lines running through the snow leading out the eastern gate toward the dark forest. The beast stared at the tracks until they seemed to be imprinted in his mind's eye as he took off after the sleigh and the two runaways.

As he moved deeper into the thick, uncharted woods, he found himself oddly grateful for his keen animal senses; the act of using them almost second nature to him. He saw the wolves lurking in the shadows, knowing they would not attack him; all of it was his territory. Before Belle and her daughter had arrived, he had used the forest as his own hunting ground as the beast took over his humanity. Yet, it was his humanity he felt as rage and fear fought inside him. How could they just abandon him? They would have to pay for their dissidence.

Still, the image of the near frozen sick and scared child in the snow would not leave his mind as he plowed on to find them. A distant noise sounded in terror like some wounded creature, but something was wrong. The beast halted, closed his eyes, and listened. It was a similar cry to the one he heard that evening on the blatancy of the West Wing only the name was different. "Mam….an…Mam..an."

The beast turned and ran in the direction of the voice. Snow blew behind him as he dashed over toward the strange sound. He paused at the edge of a frozen lake, confused. Some areas of water were lapping against the ice while some parts remained solid. Was the animal in the lake trying to get out? His eyes squinted in the darkness as he peered across the frozen water. A small figure was hunched over a part out in the middle, the small body shaking in terror. Once more, he heard the cry for help and his eyes grew wide. It was Chantal crying out for her disobendment mother. He felt the rage return as he stormed out onto the ice and paused beside the shivering child.

Chantal looked up at him, startled, her eyes wide with terror as she pointed down into the lake. Her voice came out through trebling lips. "Maman…."

The beast nodded. "Get in the sleigh."

He listened as Chantal crawled away a safe distance before he broke through the ice into the icy river. The current pushed against him as he swam toward the fallen woman floating and drifting through the water like a child's doll. He swam and grabbed her, pulling her close to him as he turned up and broke through the ice once more. His fur felt heavy with the water even as it ran off him as he walked over to the sleigh. Cradling Belle in his massive arms, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was so cold, lifeless in his arms.

From the moonlight, she was ghostly pale that he tore his eyes from her still figure and kept looking straight ahead. Chantal and Chip sat inside the sleigh watching them approach, fear and anxiety filled their eyes. None of them said anything as the beast lay Belle beside the child and draped a warm blanket over her still form. As he moved to take the horse, he saw Chantal open her mouth. He glared at her, silencing her as she bowed her head and turned her attention to her mother. Without another word, the beast climbed onto the sleigh and headed back to the castle.

As they went, he heard Chip mumble, "I hope your mother is gonna be okay, Chantal."

"I know."

The small trio kept silent the rest of the way back. Pulling through the gates, the beast hopped from the sleigh and began to bark out orders to the stable hands and the other servants. He carefully picked Belle up and carried her unconscious body inside with the two children following silently behind him. The warmth of the kitchen hit him as he entered the snow and water dripping off his body as tingles ran throughout his body.

Other servants soon crowded around him as he handed Belle off to the woman, ordering them to change her into warmer cloths. He watched silently as they carried her away, her cold skin and haunting pale face still etched into his mind. Once more, he felt a sense of rage begin to boil inside of him as he turned and left the kitchen. Unanswerable questions raced through his mind as he stalked down the empty corridors. His ears perked at the sound of footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Chantal still dressed in her matching red winter coat.

"Yes…what is it?" He felt the tremble in his voice as he tried not to lose his temper. The girl was not responsible for her mother's actions.

"I…." Chantal gulped and looked up at him. "I…wanted to thank you for saving my Maman's life."

The beast blinked, still uncertain at receiving the gratitude from others. "Uh…you're welcome." He looked down at her. "But what were you doing out there?"

"Going to get…something for someone."

Inwardly, the beast reeled back as though he had been struck. Could Forte have been right about them trying to return to the father and husband? He sighed. "Your Papa?"

Chantal shook her head. "No…it was for you."

"Me?" He paused. Twice in one day, the mother and child had been trying to do nice things for him. What was going on? Why would they try and do something for him? He was brought out of his thoughts as Chantal placed her hand on his paw.

Startled, the beast glanced down into large pleading blue eyes. "Monsieur, you won't hurt Maman, will you? She…didn't do anything wrong. We were told you liked the trees at Christmas time."

He sighed. "I…don't know." He gestured behind her. "Now why don't you see how your mother's doing?"

Chantal nodded somberly and turned. At the end of the corridor, she paused and turned. "What did you say?"

The beast took a small step toward her. "I was wondering who told you about the…trees."

"Maestro Forte."

He repeated the name. "Are you certain?"

Chantal nodded before she turned and disappeared from sight.

XxX

The first thing she felt was warmth and a dull pain; the heavy coverlets tucked around her stiff body while darkness surrounded her. Belle blinked as she grudgingly came back into consciousness. Her head throbbed as she surveyed the chamber. Dull sunlight filled the bedchamber with its warm rays, illuminating the darkened room. Belle closed her eyes, yearning to return to that place of numbness and peace as she felt her sore muscles tighten as she tried to move around. Questions ran through her mind as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She looked down and saw the white cuffs of a cotton nightgown. How had she gotten back here? How long she had been unconscious? The last thing she remembered was the feeling of the frozen river engulfing her as something pulled her down into the watery depths. The sound of a crackling fire broke into her thoughts as someone poked the blazing coals. She turned and saw Madame and Lumiere leaning over fireplace.

Clearing her throat, Belle called out, "Good…uh morning, Madame and Lumiere."

Both servants turned, startled, and smiled at her. Lumiere hopped over to the bed. "Ah…good morning, Madame. How are you feeling?"

"I'm….all right?" Panic suddenly rose in her as she stared at the candelabra. "Where is Chantal?"

"Oh, she is fine. No need to worry about her. She is in the kitchen with Mrs. Potts and Chip."

Belle sighed in relief. "All right, merci for letting me know." She paused and glanced out the window. "How long have I been out?"

"Only a few hours…do you not remember anything?" Concern filled Lumiere's face as he jumped onto the bed.

Belle closed her eyes as his question rolled around in her mind. She remembered the cold and numbness. Some blurry vision with concerned voices floating over her before darkness had surrounded her again. _I must have slipped in and out of it._ She opened her eyes and nodded. "I remember bits and pieces."

Madame brushed one of her wooden hand arms across her forehead. "Oh…thank heavens…I was worried for a minute there."

Belle gave a small smile. "I'm fine, really, Madame and merci for the nightgown." She moved over and threw the covers off. "Though I want….what is this?" A bandage covered her left leg. Confusion shone in her eyes as she looked between Lumiere and Madame for an answer.

Madame moved over and sat down beside her. "Your ankle is twisted, my dear. I'll try and get some hot water brought up to help soothe the pain."

Belle bit her lip and stroked the guise around her ankle. She had been stupid going off alone with only Chantal and Chip into the forest were anything could happen and for what a Christmas tree. Once more, she felt a dull pain in her stomach as tears rimmed her eyes.

"Are you in pain, Madame?" Lumiere placed a cold candle branch on her arm.

She sucked down her tears and shook her head. "I'm…it's nothing….Can I go and see Chantal?"

"Oh, but Madame your ankle?"

Belle swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Walking will do it good."

It took her half an hour to convince Lumiere and Madame of the plan and changing into a proper dress. She donned the same green gown she had worn when the beast had given her the library all those weeks ago. Using the wall to support her, she made her down slowly to the kitchen. She did want to see Chantal, but something held her back as she turned down another passage away from the direction of the kitchen. The corridors were silent as she walked along, not really noticing where she was going.

How could she have been so stupid to herself and her child at risk? What had she been thinking? The grounds had not had the best trees, but they could have managed it. She paused and raised her sore ankle, a few stray tears rolling down her face as more memories and pain ran through her body. For the second time, she wished to return that place of numbness and peace and silence. Her eyebrows knitted together. _It is never this silent here?_

"What are you doing here?" A startled, gruff voice asked from above her.

Her head snapped up as she saw the beast standing on the landing of the stairs, which led to the West Wing. How had she ended up here? She stared at him blankly as he began to descend the stairs.

"What are you doing here? You should be resting." The beast paused a short distance away from her, waiting for her reply.

Belle took a deep breath. "I…was just out for a walk. Do you need something?"

Now, it was the beast who looked confused. "I…no I don't need anything. Again, what are you doing here?"

Belle shrugged, unable to answer. She did not know herself why she had wandered over to the West Wing. Nor could she completely explain her question of asking if he needed anything. When she been sick, Gaston had still demanded her to do things. Why should the beast be any differant? He had a whole house full of staff to fulfill to get him whatever he desired. _A household of staff…._ She glanced up toward his chambers. "Why….is there no music playing? It is so rare I don't hear some melody coming from up-"

"And there will be no more music from Forte."

Belle blinked. "What…do you mean?"

A low growl rumbled in his throat. "Forte."

She pushed herself away from the wall. "What hap…ah." She stumbled forward, but the beast caught her with ease. His strong arms supported her as he helped her to stand up straight again. Her cheeks flushed, remembering something warm touching her cold body as the water dripped off of her.

Averting her eyes, she said, "Uh…thank you. I was hoping to go to the kitchen."

He nodded. "Here…lean on me." He moved her slowly until they were facing the same direction, side by side. "Wrap your arm around me."

Belle felt her breath grow short as she followed his orders without a sound. She felt his left paw slid around her waist; his touch tender and uncertain, similar to how he had lead her into the library, barely touching her. Yet, she felt safe in his massive arms as she wrapped her own arm around his back. Carefully, they began to walk back in the direction of the kitchen in a comfortable silence. She still yearned to know why the music had stopped, but something in the beast's eyes stopped her from voicing her questions. A hesitant smile curled at the corners of her lips as she saw some of the holiday decorations up on the walls. Still something nagged her as she peered over at the beast.

She cleared her throat. "Uh…Beast….why aren't you mad at me?"

"What do you mean?"

She paused as the neared the kitchen and turned to face him, using her hand and the wall to steady herself. "I mean…I broke your rules I left the castle."

He gave a small nod. "I know after you promised you never would."

Belle reached up and turned his chin toward her, until they were looking into each other's eyes. "I know…I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to leave, but I just wanted to make you happy."

He took a deep breath. "I know, Chantal told me, but…Belle do you know why I asked that of you in the first place?"

She stared at him.

"Well…it was…."

"Oh, Maman, you're up." Chantal flew from the kitchen door and wrapped her arms around her.

Belle smiled and draped her right arm around her. "I'm okay, Sweetie. How are you?"

"I'm…okay, Maman. What's wrong with your leg?"

"It's twisted right now but I'll be fine in a few days."

She turned and looked at the beast. "Thank you, Monsieur."

The beast nodded. "Now why do you go back into the kitchen and let your Maman have some rest."

Chantal's eyebrows furrowed and then she shrugged. "Okay." She turned and paused at the door. "Are we still gonna have Christmas?"

Belle gulped and closed her eyes. After a moment, she glanced over at the beast. "If…you will allow it, Beast."

He looked between them before he nodded. "Of course you're going to have your Christmas, Chantal."

She smiled, giving a small cry of excitement before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

Belle took two steps after her before her paused and turned back to the beast. "Thank you…beast. It….means a lot to Chantal."

"And to you."

For a moment, her eyes fluttered to the ground, her hand falling across her stomach. "Yes….the holiday is important to me." Her voice was so soft that she barely seemed to hear it herself.

"Are you all right?"

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Genuine concern filled his soft blue eyes as he took a step toward her, ready to catch her if she fell again.

He took a small step toward her. "Do you need something?"

She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "Could…you take me…to the chapel?"

For a moment, he looked confused before he nodded. "Very well."

He offered her his hand and together they turned and walked toward the eastern corner of the castle. It was a slow, but easy progress as the pair walked. Soon, they fell into the comfortable quietness as they strolled down the long and winding passages from one side of the fortress to the other. Finally, Belle spotted the familiar door which led out the small courtyard and chapel. The beast paused and glanced down at her, questioningly, but she nodded. Carefully, they two crossed the empty courtyard and opened the wooden doors.

A few candles were set around the small chamber with small tapestries of Bible stories hung on the walls. The alter stood at the far end of the chapel with candles set on other end of it, while a large wooden cross hung above the alter. Belle crossed herself and bowed her head before she stepped inside and slid into the back pew.

Uncertainly, the beast cleared his throat. "Urh…well there you are…when you're done, just call."

Belle turned to thank him, but he had already disappeared from the threshold. Biting her lip, she whispered her gratitude into the wind and turned around. It felt strange to be the only member inside the church, but she needed this. Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands, bowed her head and began to pray as tears slipped down her face.

**Well, what do you think? Please let me know. I love the scene in the Enchated Christmas after Belle is saved by the beast, but I did not think I could do it justice and this way it will play a bigger part in the story later on. One more chapter until the real Christmas stuff for the main trio and the others. Please let me know what you think of this. I tried to connect the beast and Belle again and I hope I did that better without it being to unrealistic**. **The pain in Belle's stomach will be revealed in the next chapter, I prmise. Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought. Until next time, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year for everyone.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Well here it is, the last chapter (for 2011, amyway). I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists, everything else belongs to Disney. I hav no BETAer so if I miss something sorry. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. (Another long one for all my faithful reviewers you guys are the best).**

The quill hovered over the fresh piece of parchment. The same questions and uncertainties circled through her mind as she sat in the decorated conformance room. Over the last six days, Belle had spent much of her time between her bedchamber, the library or the conference room as her ankle healed with Chantal or the beast as company, keeping her sane.

Yet, now she was alone sitting at a small writing desk set off to the side. She sighed in frustration as she set the quill aside once more. Why had she thought today would be any different? Each day, she sat by the window, trying to come up with a story to give to the beast as a gift. Yet, nothing came to her. She chuckled, inwardly. At this rate her ankle would be healed before she even set a letter to paper. She ran her fingers through her hair and tuned at the familiar sound of Mrs. Potts cart rolling into the room.

She gave a small wave. "Good morning, Mrs. Potts, how are you doing?"

"I'm well and how are you this fine morning?"

Belle stiffed a yawn and nodded. "I'm….fine, Mrs. Potts."

She averted her eyes from the teapot's motherly gaze. In truth, she was not fine. The same haunting images kept circling in her head until she cried herself to sleep. Again, she found herself wishing for the wonderful peace of that numb state she had been in, away from all the pain. Her hand moved across her stomach as she closed her eyes.

She pushed those thoughts away and took a deep breath. "Where are Chantal and Chip this morning? They're usually the first to be in here."

"Oh, she and Chip are outside playing in the snow." As reading her thoughts, Mrs. Potts added. "With Lumiere and Cogsworth minding them, don't worry. Now, look I have brought some more hot water and fresh bandages for your ankle."

A half hearted smile formed Belle's face. At least Chantal still got the full joy and wonder of the winter season. She glanced over and saw the clean basin filled with warm water with the fresh white bandages stacked neatly beside it. Quickly, she soaked her ankle and rebadged it.

Looking over at the table, Mrs. Potts asked, "So…how goes the story?"

Belle bit her lip and shrugged. "Not well, I'm afraid. I don't know if I'll get it done in time, I mean today's Christmas Eve."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dear. You'll get done in time I'm certain."

Belle nodded before she turned back to the blank parchment. She listened as the cart retreated out of the chamber and sighed. How was she to finish a story in just one day? Regardless of Mrs. Potts encouragement, it felt more and more a massive task the longer she thought about it. _What good would it, the beast already has the largest library I have ever seen. What would one more book to be?_

She took a deep breath and found her eyes wondering over to the large evergreen set against one of the windows. Two days after the beast had rescued her, he had gone and found a magnificent tree and brought it back for her and Chantal. The fine, colorful ordainments hung on the branches glistening in the sunlight. A beautiful angel set perched on the top of the tree, the halo seemed to glory as though it was a symbol of hope. She gulped and averted her eyes from the holy figurine, recalling the conversation with the beast a few days ago.

_He had come to fetch her from the chapel. They were walking, slowly, across the empty courtyard when he spoke, startling her. She glanced over at him, a small blush creeping into her cheeks. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" _

_The beast paused and looked at her. "Oh…I asked if you were all right?" _

_She bit her lip. "….I…yes I'm fine. Why do you ask?"_

"_It's just I have never seen you have any interest in going to church and today is not even Sunday." He stared down at her. "You can tell me if something wrong."_

"_I know but nothing is wrong. The chapel's solitude just allowed me to clear my head."_

"_If you needed to clear your head then something must be upsetting you. And isn't it you who said that Christmas is a time for hope and wishes for a better life?"_

_Belle turned her attention to the small path ahead of them. His words echoed her own when she had explained to him about the Yule Log. Yet, her mind was far from hopeful as they continued toward the opened door. How could she explain it to him? She shook her head, determined to put those thought aside. She glanced over her shoulder at the chapel and then turned to the beast. _

"_Well…I have never seen you engage with the chapel on any day."_

_He shrugged. "It had no place in life for such a long time; I had given up hoping…well never mind. Come we must get you inside."_

_Belle yearned to ask more, but understood when to drop a subject. They had returned to the castle and her bedchamber in that same silence they so often found themselves in._

Belle blinked as something anew caught her attention with the conversation. Had he really given up the hope for something better? She glanced back at the angel, her halo seeming to shine brighter as an idea formed in her mind. Quickly, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and brought back to the parchment. It was as if the quill had a mind of its own as it flew across the page with her thoughts. A rush of adrenaline filled her, banishing the pain and filling with joy as her imagination soared as it had been hidden deep inside her for so long.

The candles had been lit as the afternoon wore on. It barely seemed possible for her to have worked for so long after such a struggle to start. With a small smile of satisfaction, Belle put the last period and set the quill aside. She leaned back and glanced up at the lit Christmas tree and nodded to herself. The sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor broke into her thoughts. She glanced over as Chantal, with Chip in her hand, ran into the chamber, her face flushed coming in from the cold. Her blue eyes shone with happiness as she began to babble on about her and Chip's adventures in the snow and around the castle.

Belle smiled. "It sounds like fun, Sweetie."

"Maman, are you done with your work? That's what Lumiere said. Are you done?" Chantal smiled up at her. "Please."

She patted her head. "I actually just finished."

"What is it?"

Belle bit her lip, picked up the book, and showed it to the two children. "It's a gift for the beast."

"The Master?" Chip asked, looking up at her.

She nodded and set the book in a small cupboard on the desk. "There…and." She looked out the window. "I think it's still light enough. Let's go."

She smiled and watched as the two children dashed off back the way they had came. With a small smile, she gradually followed after them into the kitchen. It seemed strange at how fast her ankle had healed that she could walk without any real pain. After promising Mrs. Potts to be careful, Belle donned her red cloak, over her pink gown, and slipped outside joining the children.

She breathed the fresh air in deeply while her eyes seemed to adjust to the light. With Chantal's support, she and the children climbed down the steps into one the large courtyards. The snow seemed to glisten under the low afternoon sun as the trio surveyed the area. A few birds were perched on the bare branches on one of the trees, whistling in their communication to each other.

Chantal dug into her pocket and withdrew a handful of seed. "Maman, Lumiere suggested I take this, but I don't know what it is."

Belle laughed and knelt down in the snow. "It's food for the birds, would you like me to show you how to feed them?"

The children nodded as Belle stood up and gradually walked over to the tree, her arm outstretched. A small blue jay stared at her, tilted its head and flew around her hand until it decided it safe and settled in her hand, pecking at the seed. She glanced over her shoulder at the wide eyed children and smiled. Her smile faltered slightly as she caught sight of the beast standing on the landing watching them.

She felt a warm blush creeping into her cheeks as she averted her eyes onto the ground. What was he doing here? She lowered her hand and walked back over toward Chantal and Chip. Despite her sore ankle, Belle kept her eyes on the beast as he walked down the steps, joining them in the courtyard.

She placed her hands on Chantal's shoulders, supporting herself, and gave a small bow of her head to the beast. "Good afternoon, Beast."

The beast gave a small nod. "Good afternoon, Madame Belle, Chantal. I see your ankle has healed nicely."

"Oh, thank you, it's not completely better, but it is getting there. Is something you wanted?"

He shook his head. "No…I was just wondering what you were doing."

"Maman was showing us how to feed those birds." Once more, Chantal pulled a handful of seed from her pocket. "Want to try?"

The beast rose on his hind legs as though looking over their heads at the birds. A few whistles and a flutter of wings signaled the birds' departure from the branch. The beast grimaced and lowered himself back to look at Chantal. "….Uh, no I don't think they like…. me."

Belle closed her eyes as if hearing his unspoken words. She glanced back over her shoulder at the small creatures and sighed. If they had been large game, Gaston would have tried to have they killed, but the beast was afraid to feed them because he was a monster. How different the two were. Unconsciously, she began to fiddle with her necklace; it seemed strange how little she thought of her husband. Yet, where was he? She closed her eyes as another dull pain filled her stomach. She felt Chantal slip away from her arms and a tender hand on her shoulder as she opened her eyes meeting the beasts'.

"Are you okay, Belle?" Once more that genuine concern filled his voice as he stared at her. "Is it your ankle?"

She lowered her gaze and shook her head. "No….I'm fine really."

The beast opened his mouth, but was cut off as a snow ball slammed into him. Shock and fear ran through Belle's mind as turned and saw Chantal and Chip on the ground, laughing. She started to reprimand them, but again the beast placed his paw on her shoulder.

"It's all right, Belle." He turned to the children, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Cause now they're gonna get it."

He pretended to pounce toward them while the children ran out of reach. The beast began to make his own snowballs and soon a full war had begun among the small group. Even Belle found herself kneeling in the snow, mindful of her ankle, making her own snowballs. It was not until the sun had gone down that they halted and returned to the castle, each with a smile on their faces. Once inside, the beast ordered dinner to be served in the conference room for Christmas Eve. Belle bit her lip as heat rushed to her cheeks at the act of kindness.

Later, after dinner, the group found themselves settled by the fire, blankets draped around their shoulders. Belle sighed in contentment as she stared up at the tree. In this one afternoon, she had revisited her childhood and it felt indiscernibly as she sat in the comfortable silence listening to the fire crackling in the hearth.

It was Chantal who broke the silence. "Maman, can you tell us the story now?"

"Which story?" Chip hopped down from the table and looked at her.

"The Nav…the baby story from church."

Belle glanced out the darkened window. "It's not Christmas yet."

"Please, Maman."

Belle gave a soft smile and nodded. Despite Gaston's ban of books, he had allowed her the privilege of telling Chantal the Bible stories, though he had never joined in to listen himself. She took a deep breath and began to tell the tale of Jesus' birth. She spun the tale with a skilled craft of a storyteller making it come alive with her words. When she had finished, she looked at Chantal. "It's a wonderful story, isn't it?"

Chantal glanced over and stared out the window and said nothing. Belle sighed. The lack of enthusiasm for any story only survived as another reminder of her husband and it scared her. She vaguely remembered when her own father had told her the same story.

"So…he had a new papa?"

Belle blinked and looked over at her. "What did you say, honey?"

Chantal did not look at her. "Ju…Jesus's papa was God, right?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, we are all his children."

"But he got a new papa to take of him….that man married to Mary. And he was a good new Papa for Jesus?"

Belle paused, considering. "I imagine so…why do you ask?"

Chantal looked over at her, her eyes wide. "Is…the beast gonna be my new Papa?"

Belle's heart leapt inside her. "Oh, no, Chantal….your Papa is still your father. I…" Her voice trailed off as she watched the child yawn. She gave a small smile as she picked her up and moved over to one of the divans and laid her down.

XxX

The fire was low with the passing of the evening. Mrs. Potts had escorted her own son off to bed while Belle held Chantal's head in her lap. For the fifth time, the beast glanced down at the slumbering girl, her question running through his mind. Had she meant it or was it just the talk of an exhausted child? He sighed and glanced over at Belle, who was just staring into the fire, lost in her own thoughts.

A smile grew on his face as he remembered her telling the tale of Jesus. Belle had put so much life into a story he had not heard in years, that he could see it in his mind's eye. His ears perked up as she took in a shaky breath, her shoulders shaking as though she was sobbing. He glanced over at her, the firelight catching a few tears as they rolled down her face. Unconsciously, he lifted his arm and wiped away her tears with the back of his paw.

Belle didn't flinch at his touch, but continued to stare into the fire, as though in a trance. "I can still see them."

Startled, the beast blinked and looked around the chamber, but no one was there. He glanced over at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Every year it's the same…I feel it, but this year I saw them. They…were so cute and small….I should have felt something was wrong….should have done something…..and he…was so tiny." She paused, taking another shaky breath. "God…why couldn't have I have done something."

"What are you talking about? Who do you see?" His tone was gentle, but his heart had begun to beat faster. He had never heard her talking of such things before. Belle blinked and peered over at him, shame covering her face. "Oh…I'm sorry….you didn't need to hear that."

A low growl of irritation rumbled in his throat. "Don't do that….don't shut me out, Belle. Tell me what's wrong." He sighed and softened his tone. "Are…you pregnant?"

A struggled laugh or cry, he could tell which, escaped her as she bowed and shook her head, stroking Chantal's hair. After a moment, she shifted and gently moved out from under her daughter and stood up. He moved to help her, but she held up her hand and moved over to the tree.

She craned her neck slightly and looked up at the angel. He heard her take another shaky breath. "I….when I was drowning….I saw the faces of….of my children…my sons….I wanted to stay with them, but…knew I had to come back for Chantal." She glanced over her shoulder. "She loves the holiday so much and even Gaston enjoys it, but…I can't seem to forget…" She broke off and turned back around to the tree.

The beast stared at her back a moment longer before he stood up. He felt the air of confession filling the room and he wanted to stop it, seeing her in such pain. Yet, his own, selfish curiosity was too great and it seemed like she needed to say it someone.

He gulped and prompted her. "Can't forget what?"

Once more, she took a deep breath and straightened her back, determined not to break down. "My…son..., Chantal was one and a half, it was the day before Christmas Eve I…went into labor praying this one would make it….but he was so small and fragile…." Her voice trailed off, but the beast did not need to hear anymore.

The tone in her voice spoke volumes, as though this was the first time she had spoken about it to anyone. As if she had held it together all these years only to have all her emotions overflow now in her confession. The pain in her stomach had not been one of joy, but one of unspeakable loss. Inwardly, he shrank back as though ashamed he even thought he knew what pain was around the holiday.

He took a small step toward her. "Belle….have you ever spoken about this to anyone?"

She shook her head.

"Not even your husband?" The question had left his mouth before he even thought it.

Another strangled laugh/ cry escaped her. "Gaston just goes out to the tavern to drink as though it was a regular night. And why should he care?" Her voice dropped low as though mimicking his voice. ""It's your foolishness and neglect that cost me my sons'."

The beast stared at her back, unable to speak for a moment. "He…cannot mean that."

Yet, even as he said that, he had witnessed some of it as a child from the other noble families. Nobles would come with their pregnant wives, glowing with happiness at the thought of having a son, an heir to carry on their name. However, when the midwife told of a baby girl, their faces fell with disappointment. Yet, he had never seen any of them blame their wives for the new child. He glanced back at the slumbering child and remembered the scar he had seen caused by her father's hand. How could such a man be so cruel to the ones he was meant to love?

Belle's sobs broke him out of his thoughts as he stared her in such pain. A pain she could not confide even to her husband, the one she was meant to love and he her. Uncertainly, the beast walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body tremble with sorrow. He felt her turn in his arms, accepting the embrace as her sobs grew and her face buried in her chest; her tears soaking his fur. They stared that way for what seemed like forever until her sobs subsided.

Suddenly, she pulled away, breaking the embrace, biting her lip. "Oh…I'm sorry I didn't mean to get all emotional…" She shifted uncertainly and began to move around him.

"No." He grabbed her hand gently, their eyes locking as she turned to look at him. There was so much he wanted to say to her. She didn't need to be sorry for not proving a son. She had given Chantal, a little rascal, but one of most beautiful children he had ever seen. A beauty from the inside she had gotten from her mother despite her father. Yet, none of it came out, so he settled for. "I'm…glad you told me and…I'm sorry."

Belle gave a small nod. "….Thank you….and I'm sorry I got you all wet."

The beast couldn't help, but chuckle. "I…think I did that myself with that huge snow ball."

"I told you they had to be smaller." A half hearted smile formed on her lips. She glanced over at the cloak on the mantle and gasped. "Oh, goodness…it's Christmas all ready."

He turned and stared at the cloak. It was one in the morning on Christmas day and he felt none of the painful memories as he had the previous years. What was going on? He turned at the sound of Belle walking and watched her open a drawer in the desks. She glanced over at him.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

The beast nodded and obeyed, recalling the same exchange when he had given her the library. His sensitive ears picked up where she was walking, but he kept his eyes closed as she had instructed.

"Okay….now."

He opened them and stared down at a neatly bound book in her out stretched hands. Gingerly, he took it from her and began to flip through it. Neat, feminine script filled it's pages until about half away through. He looked up in surprise.

"It's not completely finished. It's just one story and I thought…you liked it….than I could add another story later." She bit her lip, self- consciously. "I…didn't know what else to get you and I know you have enjoyed reading in our sessions so…"

"Belle…it's perfect. We can read it tomorrow in the library in you like."

She nodded. "That would be….nice."

A yawn escaped her and the beast smiled. "I think it's time for bed."

Again, Belle nodded and moved over the divan and picked Chantal up in her arms. She glanced over as the beast moved closer. "What is it?"

"You can't carry with all the way to your bedroom with your leg."

Belle shrugged. "I'll manage."

"Here…" He took a deep breath. "Give her to me. I'll carry her and you can lean on me."

Before she could protest, he added. "Your ankle isn't healed completely and it could get worse if you try this."

Belle sighed, but handed Chantal over. It took a minute or two to find a good holding position, but soon, the child was nuzzled on his left and he extended his right arm to Belle. The beast smiled to himself at how naturally she slid beside him and walked with him as though they had done this more than just a week. Yet, her confession must have drained her because they soon fell into the too familiar silence as he escorted her and Chantal back their room.

The corridors were silent, but he welcomed it as though the three of them were the only people in the castle; with no responsibilities or sadness between them. There was so much he wanted to say, but his throat felt dry even he managed the courage to ask. They reached her bedroom sooner than he would have liked, but even he admitted the late hour. He handed Chantal back to Belle and watched as the child was tucked into the large bed by a loving mother. A small smile curved on his lips, but it flattered as Belle turned and walked back over to him.

"Is there anything else you need?"

She shook her head. "No, but…" She reached out and took his hand, giving it the smallest squeeze. "Just…thank you for being there."

He nodded. "Of course." He turned to go, but paused and turned around. "Belle?"

She took a step out of the room. "Yes?"

He ran his paw across his neck, nervously. "I…was wondering….other than reading are there any other activities you liked to do."

Belle paused, thoughtful. "Well…I do enjoy dancing, but…." She looked down at her ankle. "That's not likely to happen soon."

The beast cursed himself. How stupid was he? Of course she could not do anything with her twisted ankle. He sighed and then nodded to himself. He looked at her. "So I shall postpone the offer, but….once your ankle was healed would you….have dinner and dance with me?"

Belle nodded. "Of course, beast. I cannot wait, but until then good night and Merry Christmas."

He nodded and bid her good evening and watched as she went back inside and shut the door. In the quiet corridor, he whispered, "Merry Christmas."

**Well, there it is! And Haha Belle is not pregant. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think. I know I might be harping on the whole Gaston and sons thing, but foranyone who has lost a child or more (as Belle has) it is tramtic thing and when you don't have someone you can talk to, it just makes it that much harder. So Ihope I din't linger to long on that for anyone. **

**Oh and the whole Bible story with Jesus's birth and Chantal's thinking, that is really just the mindset of a child, who doesn't understand the more devine aspects so I hope that didn't turn anyine off. **

**Also what did you think of the beast and Belle was ot it rushed or just right in their blooming relationship. Please let me know what you guys, think, good, bad, whatever. I will you all Next Year. Have a Happy New Years everyone. :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Here is the next chapter, I own nothing, but Chantal, everything else belongs to Disney. I hope you enjoy it.**

The beast smiled to himself as he finished reading Belle's book over a day and a half, but he had read it aloud on his own. It had been a simple tale about a monster whose heart had been as cold as winter, but s ingle act of kindness had shown him that someone cared for him. In that one act, he had found the hope and begun to change for the better. Closing the book, he glanced over to see Belle's approved and happy smile. His heart beat a little faster at seeing her excitement for him completing the story. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his paw over hands. "Thank you…for the gift."

"Of course, did you enjoy the story?"

He nodded. "Yes, but….what got you inspired to write such a story?" A sly smile formed on his face. "Is it my story?"

She paused before she shook her head. "No…not everything is about you. I just made it up."

"All right, but…I once heard that writers write from what they know, their own experiences or wishes."

She shrugged. "I…suppose so. Why do you ask?"

He stared at her and rubbed his neck nervously. "Well….could it have something to do with your husband?"

She paused as though unnerved by the suggestion. "I…no, it was just to me." Her voice held a firmness in dropping the subject.

He nodded to himself. Since her confession at Christmas, they had been carefully avoiding the subject of her husband. He knew all too well the need to avoid painful memories or subjects. It was the reason he never brought up his own to her. The enchanted rose had already begun to wilt, at beast he had three weeks left. Pushing those thought away, he turned back and watched as Belle surveyed the library until her eyes fell on Chantal. The child sat quietly, beside the fire, looking at a book full of inventions. His eyes perked as he heard Belle mutter something.

He blinked and glanced over at her. "What is it?"

"I'm just remembering how you got her into those books. She was so upset about not having the singing lessons that I asked her if she had any more ideas for inventions. She shook her head and you said there were some books that might give her some new ideas." A half hearted smile formed. "She was so happy….I almost have to force her to put them down to eat."

He nodded, remembering Chantal's eyes lit up when he had handed her the volume. It was as though it was Christmas all over again as she turned the pages and found new inventions on each. His heart had warmed with almost pride at watching her. He followed Belle gaze and for a few moments they just sat and watched the small child. After a minute, he looked down at the book in his lap. "Well…those are just pictures, next we need to get into reading."

Belle looked between him and Chantal, but she shook her head. "Chantal thinks actually reading is a waste of time…." There was a pause. "She takes after her father in that way."

She closed her eyes and sighed before she looked back at her daughter. He gulped and felt a hint of sorrow in his own heart. He could see the desire in her eyes to teach and share the stories with the child….the only one she had left.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, he said, "Well…I'm sure you could teach her."

Once more, she shook her head. "No, I'm not a good teacher."

The beast chuckled. "I don't know about that you got me into it." He patted the cover gently. "…Though I do admit when I was young and my parents or tutors wanted to teach me something….I didn't like it. So maybe it helps if someone outside the family does it." He looked over at Chantal. "Maybe I should teach her."

After a moment, he felt and heard her rise to her feet. He peered up at her and made to stand up too, but she held up her hand. He remained seated, but stared at her. "Is something wrong?"

"No…I just feel like a walk." She turned to Chantal. "Sweetie, can you stay with the beast for a little bit."

Chantal turned to her and nodded. "Okay, Maman."

"Good girl." Without another word, she turned and left the library; only a slight limp with her foot gave any sign of her injury. It still amazed him how quickly, she had recovered.

Yet, as he listened to her fading footsteps, confusion and a hint of irritation crept into his mind. Had he said something to arouse such a strange time for a walk? Had he been wrong to bring up her husband? It felt peculiar as he thought of it. Since her confession, she never mentioned him as though it never occurred, almost pushing him away again. Did she not trust him to tell him what was troubling her?

He remembered that night in the Christmas conference chamber as she sobbed into his chest while he embraced her and after with putting Chantal to bed, he had felt a connection. Despite her married life, he had felt such a strong connection he had not wanted to let her go; only to keep holding her and reassuring her that everything was all right. Yet, she had pulled away just as she did now. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he sank back into the divan almost at a loss of what to do.

"Master, is something wrong?"

Startled, the beast glanced over and saw Lumiere standing on one of the tables. He blinked in surprise; he had not heard anyone entering. He straitened himself and shook his head. "No, nothing is wrong."

"Are you certain….I just saw Madame Belle walking off-"

"She hates me…." There was a pause. "Or…at the very least doesn't trust me."

Lumiere stared at him. "What do you mean, Master?"

"She….I mentioned her husband and she become strange….it's like she's turning back to her old self. I can't get through to her."

"What happened?"

"I don't know….she just got up and left. I can't understand women."

Lumiere nodded. "They are tricky ones to comprehend, that is true, but I doubt that Madame Belle is upset with you. She seemed more stunned than anything."

"Really?"

"You should go talk to her."

"She doesn't want to talk to me otherwise she wouldn't have left." Another low growl rumbled in his throat. "Every little thing seems to upset her."

Lumiere hesitated. "Well…I knew someone like that, when he had a problem he closed off from others when he really them."

A hint of anger flashed in his eyes. "Are you talking about me?"

Lumiere shook his candle arms. "No…it was your father."

The beast stared at him before he averted his eyes. Over the years his memory of his father had dimmed, but he remembered a strong and self-assured person who never had any real problems or spoke about them. Of course the circumstances were different, but was Belle pushing him away from similar reasons? What would it take for them to have an actual conversation without holding anything back from each other?

Lumiere's voice broke into his thoughts. "Go talk to her, Master. I'll look after Chantal."

The beast turned and stared at him. "It's the right thing to do, Master, trust me."

The beast sighed, nodding. "Very well."

He stood up setting Belle's book aside on the table. Another volume caught his attention and he picked up, a small smile on his face. He turned and echoed the same instructions to Chantal with Lumiere being there. He glanced back at Lumiere, who waved him on with an encouraging smile, before he walked out of the library and began his search for Belle.

XxX

She drew her cloak tighter around herself though she barely felt the cold. The conversation with the beast continued to run through her mind. Had the offer been serious to teach Chantal to read? Even if it had not been, the fact that he had suggested it was enough. It was as though he could read her inner thoughts and desires for her daughter. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as she paused, her hand resting on the stone wall as she gazed over the landscape and to the forest beyond. Where was Gaston? Had the greatest hunter given up the search for his wife and daughter?

She sighed, unable to bare the same questions, lowered her gaze, and continued to walk down the steps into the courtyard. She listened to the birds chirping in communication with each other. Inwardly she chuckled. How was it that such tiny creatures could communicate better than she could with others? As if to prove her right, one of them flew over and rested on the bench before her, his large eyes staring up at him.

Belle smiled and held up both her hands. "I'm sorry; I don't have any food for you today."

"I wasn't asking for any."

Her lips tilted in an amused smile as she turned around. "I would hope not, bird seed is not in most people's regular meals."

The beast nodded. "No, it's not, but you have to admit that creature is persistent." He gestured behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and looked down. The small bird had hopped over to the edge, waiting expectantly. As though to herself, Belle mumbled. "Well….he doesn't seem to be afraid of you anymore."

"Yes….but you seem to be afraid of something."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned back to him. What was he talking about? She had never been afraid of him, at least not in the last few weeks. She admitted that she was certainty when they first met, how long ago that seemed, but now she felt something different. Staring at him, she shook her head. "I'm not afraid, Beast."

"Then why did you leave the library so suddenly? If it not fear there is something else bothering you."

"I…" She changed the topic. "How did you find me?"

Once more, an amused glint filled his eyes. "It wasn't that hard. You have been taking such walks for the past two days."

Belle nodded to herself. She had taken to walking around the castle grounds by herself every since her confession. It allowed her to clear her mind from the confusion she felt when she was around the beast. She remembered his strong arms wrapped around when she had broken down. His strong, but gentle embrace had made her feel so secure as she buried her face deeper into his warm fur. It felt so…right.

She shook her head and cleared her throat. "I…just needed some fresh air."

She bit her lip, turned, and sat down the bench just as the bird flew off.

The beast took a step forward. "Are you sure there is nothing else?"

"No, why?"

"Well…we haven't finished reading our book."

"Yes we did just this morning."

The beast shook his head. "No, we didn't." He withdrew a volume from behind his back and held it out to her. "Would you…finish it?"

She reached out and stroked the cover of _King Arthur_. Their story, he had called it. She smiled; in truth she had always put herself into the stories whenever she read a story. After a moment, she looked up at him. "Beast….which character do you see yourself as or connect to the most?"

He stared at her, baffled. "What?"

"Oh…it's just a little game I play when reading is imagining yourself as one of the characters. For example, my father and I used to see me as the fair Guinevere." She gave a small laugh before she grew somber and looked back down at the book. "Though she married for love." She looked up at him again. "Now…who do you think you are?"

He hesitated then shook his head. "I don't know…I guess it takes some practice to do."

"Some I guess….and speaking of practice, were you serious about you teaching Chantal to read."

The beast took a step forward. "Is…that why you left?"

She gave a small nod. "It…your offer was just a shock to me. My husband would have and never did offer such a thing. It was just…." She bit lip, unable to find the correct words.

"I did mean it, Belle. That is if Chantal will let me." He laughed and gestured to the book. "And maybe you could write a story for her like you did for me. And I think I need one more reading lesson of my own."

Belle nodded, smiling. "Of course." She stood up. "Are we go inside?"

The beast moved and brushed the snow off the bench and sat down. "Actually, I was thinking out here would be nice. The sun will keep us warm enough and you can have all the fresh air you want too."

Belle smiled and ducked her head embarrassed. "All right…." She opened the book to where they had left off. "Shall we begin?"

The sun hung high in the sky as they turned to the last page. They had taken turns reading to each other with Belle faltering allowing the beast to correct her as though he was teaching. She smiled to herself whenever he caught and corrected her with warmth of understanding that must teachers did not understand. She took a deep breath as she looked down at the last page, not wanting their time together to end.

Looking down at the page, she read. "When Gen heard that Author was slain. She stole away to a convent and no could ever make her smile again. The end."

"That…was a beautiful story."

Belle glanced over at him. "Oh I knew you would like it."

He paused and looked at her. A "But now…if you are Guinevere does that mean you would enter the convent if something happened to your husband?"

Belle closed he book, pretending to think. "Hm…you know I'm not certain if you can go to a nunnery once you have a child."

The beast chuckled. "No…I suppose not then."

Belle opened her mouth, but a growl in her stomach cut her off. A blush crept into her checks as she laid her hand across her stomach. "I'm sorry….I guess I am just hungry."

The beast looked up at the sky and nodded. "It appears to be around noon anyway. A good time for lunch." He stood up and offered his arm. "Shall we."

Belle stared at him. "I can walk by myself."

He nodded. "I know, it was only an offer and those steps can be dangerous"

She laughed and accepted his arm as the two turned and headed back into the castle for lunch.

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you think. I know it's shoter than you would have wanted it, but I had to get Belle and the Beast to a certain piont. Plus I kind of had to resolve the whole confession scene and how they dealt with that (though it's not over completely. Also I wanted to add a little mre fluff in their relationship, so tell me if that worked ot not.** **I hope to get the next chapter up before school starts, but I don't know so no promsies. Anyway, hope you liked it and more coming soon.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Well here it is, another chapter. I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists, otherthing else belongs to Disney. I have no BETAer, so any mistakes they are mine and I'm sorry. Oh and big thank you to Rocky181 for giving my 150s reviewers. It means so much to me, thank you. :) I hope you and my other reviewers enjoy this chapter.**

"This is so good." Chantal cried in delight as she took another spoonful of her soup.

The beast gulped, uneasy. The three of them were seated in the parlor, for a more formal lunch. He looked down at the number of spoons, forks, and knifes set on either side of his plate. He tried to remember the lessons that his tutors had given him, but to no avail. Inwardly, he growled in frustration and self-consciousness. The first evening when Belle had come to dinner, he had not cared about such silly things as utensils.

Yet, now it seemed to be all he could think about. He glanced over at Chantal, weary; watching her use the correct knife and spoon without thinking. How was it possible for her to know such things? He gulped once more, feeling Lumiere and Mrs. Potts eyes upon him from their perch on one of the smaller tables. Unconsciously, he felt himself shrink down in the chair as though he was a child.

"Is something wrong, Beast?" Belle's soft, concerned voice asks from across the table.

The beast glanced up at her; her eyes showing a hint of concern as she set her own spoon down on the table. Where had she learned to be so dainty with the silverware? His parents would be so ashamed for him, forgetting such basic training.

He gulped and shook his head. "I'm fine, Belle."

She nodded and returned to her own soup.

"You haven't touched your soup." Chantal said, looking at him. Before he could answer, she turned to her mother. "Maman, can I go and play with Chip?"

Once more, Belle set the spoon down and nodded. "Of course, Chantal, but only if someone goes along with you."

Mrs. Potts nodded. "I'll go along with them, don't worry, Dear." She turned to Chantal. "Now come along, child-"

Chantal and Chip almost jumped off the chair and table at the same time and ran out of the dining hall with Mrs. Potts trailing after them.

The beast watched them go, a small smile on his face; memories of his own childhood circling through his mind. He had never been excused earlier as he was to play the proper host being the young prince. His sensitive ears could still hear the children laughing down the corridor, inwardly he smiled. At least Chantal had a friend to go play with. Something he never had as a child himself.

"Do you not like the food?" Belle asked, drawing his attention back to the meal.

He turned back to her and shook his head. "No…it's not the food."

"What is it, then? Chantal was right…I haven't seen you eat any of your lunch."

Nervously, the beast ran his paw around the back of his neck. "Ugh….can I ask you something?" She nodded. "Were….did you learn to…." Helplessly, he gestured to her and pointed to his untouched silverware.

Belle blinked and looked down at the table setting before her. "I…I guess I had to."

"You had tours as well?"

Her lips lifted slightly at the corners of her moth. "No…but my husband was – is a very important man in the village where I'm from. He found out my mother, who was a lower noblewoman had taught my father, who passed some knowledge onto me. So whenever we had formal gatherings at the house…he liked everything to be… perfect." Her gaze dropped to the plate as she began to eat again.

The beast nodded, though he sensed something beneath her words. She had never told him the extent of her husbands' cruelty, but he could see it in her eyes, the way she cradled Chantal when she was afraid, and the way she reacted to his own temper. Though he admitted since he had given her the library he had tried to control his temper. Yet, even he when lost it, she never seemed surprised, only petrified as though he would attack her for even the smallest mistakes.

"You know…when I forgot to do something or did something wrong, my tutors would smack my hands to teach me." A glint shone his eyes as Belle looked back up at him. "But sometimes I would forget on purpose just to spite them."

Belle pressed her lips together, smothering her laughter. After a moment, she set one of the spoons down and raised the bowl in her hands. "You mean…like this?"

The beast smiled, raising his own bowl in his large paws. "Yes…that's it."

They raised their bowls toward each other, as though toasting the plan, before they pulled them back and drank from them. He felt the lukewarm liquid ran down his throat, but felt something wet against his fur. Quickly, he pulled the bowl away and looked down at his ruined shirt. A low growl rumbled at the back of his throat as he set the bowl back on the table. How could he have done that? Hunting for food was so much easier. His ears perked at the sound of Belle's voice from across the table. He glanced up to see her laughing.

There was a light in her eyes he had rarely seen and for a moment he felt his temper raising. "Are you laughing at me?"

Belle, still lost in her laughter, shook her head and gestured to her own ruined cloths. The beast blinked, but then saw similar darkened pink spots on her gown. She had made the same mistake he had, weather by coincidence or on purpose he did not know. Yet, he too found himself laughing along with her, feeling like a child again. He calmed himself down and glanced over at Lumiere staring baffled at the two laughing "children" at the table. Another roar of laughter left him as he stared at the candelabra's priceless face of shock and confusion.

After a few moments, he and Belle settled down in their laughter and leaned back into their chairs.

Belle sighed, placing a hand over her stomach. "So…I guess there's a reason to use the silverware right?" A hint of lingering amusement laces her voice.

The beast nodded, smiling at her. "I guess." His smile faltered a little, embarrassed. "Though…I think I should learn. For future meals."

Belle pushed back her chair and stood up. "Well…I guess Chantal can teach you in exchange for you teaching her to read."

The beast stared at her. Only an hour or so ago, she had seemed almost unwilling or thought it a terrible idea for him to teach Chantal. What had changed her mind? Slowly, he stood up, but his eyes never left hers. "Do you really want me to teach her?"

Belle nodded. "If she'll have you as a teacher….and who knows it might help her think of a few knew inventions."

He paused and looked away. "What…if she doesn't…"

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she moved to his side; a warm hand rose and rested on his shoulder. "You're the one who got her into stories in the first place. Something…I have never been able to do. I'm sure she would like to learn from you."

The beast glanced down at her; her gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder giving him some courage about the subject. Maybe he could it do? After all, he had learned himself after all the years it had been lost to him. She withdrew her hand as she stared up at him, questionably. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Shall we go ask her?"

Belle bit her lip, thoughtfully before she nodded. "Yes."

The beast nodded and offered his arm to her again. Inwardly, he smiled as Belle rolled her eyes at the gesture. He knew she was almost recovered, but he did not want to take any chances. With a small amused smile on her face, she took his arm and together they left the dining hall.

**XxX**

The next few days flew by with ease as the three of them fell into a routine: the mornings were spent apart, allowing Chantal and Belle to have some time alone together until lunch, afternoons of fun in the snow with Mrs. Potts and Chip until it grew dark, and the evening was spent in the library reading in front of a large fire. Belle smiled to herself as she watched Chantal and Chip gang up on the beast in their daily snow ball fight. Fresh snow had fallen the evening before making it a fluffy wonderland and great for creating the deadly snow balls. The children were laughing as the beast charged at them again only to be smashed with the small snow balls. He bowed and gave into them as the two cheered their victory.

Turning Belle walked down the steps, smiled. "So…what is this time? Children ten and Beast two?"

The beast turned to her, pretending to be angry. "Yes." He glanced over and raised his paw in the air as the children ran to feed the birds. "But I'll get them next time."

Belle chuckled. "You know even I can't beat her."

The beast gestured between them. "That's why we need to team up."

Belle shook her head. "They are too good…." She paused and looked over at Chantal. "So…have you started to teach her yet?"

She could almost feel him shifting uneasily on his feet. "Urh…no not yet."

Belle hid her smile and nodded. She imagined her wanted it to be a surprise for he and he never liked to admit failure. Over the past few days, she had occasionally seen and heard him and Chantal in the library together. A comfortable silence fell between them as they watched the children for a few minutes. She could hardly believe that Chantal seemed healthier here than she had ever looked in the village. _Maybe this new year will be good for us both…_ Her thoughts trailed off in shock. It was New Years Eve. She bit her lip and glanced over at the beast.

"What is it?" He asked, as though reading her mind.

"Do…you remember what you asked when my ankle was healed."

The beast paused for a moment and shook his head.

"You…asked me for a dinner and…dancing."

He nodded, but averted his gaze. "Oh…yes I remember."

She fully turned to him. "Do…you not want to do it anymore?"

"It's not that…I'm just…." He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to her, locking their eyes. "Yes, I'll come for you after Chantal goes to bed."

Belle nodded a warm smile on her face. Somehow she could not wait for the evening to come. A snowball hit her arm, breaking her thoughts as Chantal ducked behind a tree, a large grin on her face.

Making her own snow ball, Belle glanced over at the beast and in the direction of Chantal. "All right, this is war."

She grinned and dashed over and joined in the fun of the snow ball fight. Yet, her heart felt light as she counted the minutes until the evening approached.

**XxX**

Belle felt the nerves run down her spine as she stood outside the closed doors to the dining room. She had spent the whole day waiting and now it was nine o'clock. She could not remember feeling this nervous evening on her wedding day. For a moment, her hand rose to her bare throat. She had donned a red and white gown for the evening with small white glooves on her hands. Her hair half held up in a bun while the best fell down her back. Chantal had even called her a queen when she had seen her.

The beast had given her a wondrous golden gown, but she had decided against it on saying it was to formal. Shaking away the memories Belle took a deep breath and entered the dining hall.

Her eyes grew wide as they took in everything. The whole room was lit with candles, showering the chamber in a cozy and warm glow. The long table had been set to its finest while music gently played in the background. Yet, what caught her attention was the beast standing by the table. He wore a light green jacket; the same one he had worn that day for lunch. Her smile grew as she recalled that fun filled meal and afternoon. She listened as Cogsworth announced her arrival and dipped into a deep curtsy, hoping to hide her flushed face while the beast bowed.

Straightening herself, she smiled. "Good evening, Beast."

The beast stared at her for a moment before he nodded. "Good evening, Belle…you look…beautiful."

Once more, Belle ducked her head in embarrassment, but smiled. "Oh…thank you….and you …." The word was on the tip of her tongue, but she settled for, "Nice too."

The beast moved forward and gestured to the table. "Shall we?"

Belle's arm slipped into his with ease as he escorted her over the table, pulled out her chair, and pushed it back in once she was seated. Returning to his own chair, he asked, "How was Chantal tonight?"

"She'll well though I think our fun outside wore her out. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow."

He gave a small chuckle, nodding. Belle found herself smiling. His laugh was not forced or at the expense of her dignity, but simply because he found something to be humorous. "And how the rest of your day?"

"It was very busy."

The meal continued in a similar fashion. Each asking questions about the others day. Belle hid another smile over the course of the dinner when she caught sight of the beast using the silverware correctly and without a disaster. Chantal must have given him lessons as she had suggested. Soon, the music took over and they fell into the familiar, but comfortable silence of enjoying each other's company. As the least dish was carried away, Belle stood up and walked over to the beast.

"Are you ready?" She asked, holding out a hand for him.

The beast stood up and accepted her hand. "…Of course…"

Belle moved next to him and they proceeded into the lavish ballroom, captured in a heaven golden glow. The polished floor seemed to glisten under the candle light of the large chandelier. Moon and starlight shine through large windows in front of them. Belle's breath caught in her throat as she moved to the center of the chamber. How was any of this possible? She glanced over at the beast and saw him gulp nervously.

She smiled as she silently pulled him in front of her and placed his paws in the correct positions. His left paw pressed lightly against her lower back while she held his right paw out in her hand. As the music began, she began to mutter the step counts to a waltz as she led him in a box step. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew his sensitive ears heard her. A timid smile formed on his face as though he understood that she was releasing her control to him.

He looked at her and she nodded, smiling as he turned her with ease. Her feet soon felt as though they were floating on air as he spun, twirled, and moved her across the floor. Each step seemed to increase his confidence as they both relaxed into the dance. Belle's feet following his lead without question as the music swirled around them. Soon, she laid her head against him, in contentment, listening to his heart beat. It felt strong and a live as it had been died and was now alive again with a new life. She smiled as she pulled back and looked up at the beast.

He smiled down at her before he spun her out and back in again; his hold on her hand firm, but gentle as it always was. All too soon, she heard the music fading away and felt the beast releasing her hand, bowing to her as she curtsied to him. Her breathing was heavy and her heart raced, but somehow she felt more alive than she had in a long time.

Straightening herself, she saw the beast taking a step closer as he took her hand in his paw. He gestured to the windows as a set of them opened onto a large balcony. "Come."

The evening air felt cool and refreshing as he escorted her out onto the balcony. The snow had been brushed off to the side, making a clean path to the edge. She smiled at the work of the servants at giving them such a wondrous night. Despite the warmth she felt, a shiver ran down her spine.

She felt the beast pull away, looking at her. "Are you cold?"

Belle bit her lip and began to shake her head, but he had already pulled off his fine green jacket. Tentatively, he moved and draped it around her shoulders before he escorted her to the edge. She bowed her head with gratitude as she gracefully took a seat on the ledge, arranging her skirts properly while the beast sat a few inches away.

A blissful smile formed on her face, thinking of the dance as she looked up at him. "Thank you…this evening has been….wonderful...thought it was too short. I could've kept dacing."

The beast smiled. "Belle…we danced for an hour."

Belle blushed. Had it really been that long, it had felt like only seconds.

The beast ran his paw over the back of his neck. "Belle..." He shifted closer and took her hands tenderly in his claws, staring into her eyes. "Are you…and Chantal… happy here?"

A small smile formed on her face. "Oh…yes. I could not image being any happier."

As the last word left her lips, she felt her heart grow heavy as she lowered her gaze to their clasped hands. Despite the gloves, she could still see, in her mind's eye, the imprint on her finger from her wedding band. A ring given to her by husband whom she had promised before God to love, obey, and cherish until death parted them. Yet, it was not death that parted them, it was her, living in a fantasy where she was looked after, where Chantal had found a love of stories, where she had not a care in the world, and where her heart stopped and raced faster all at once when the beast was near. She turned and looked out and up toward the starry sky wishing to return to the ballroom where everything seemed right and at peace.

The beast's gentle, concerned voice broke into her thoughts. "What is it?"

She sighed and turned back to him, wishing to keep things the same, but reality had broken the illusion. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hands from his and pulled his jacket tighter around her, a chill running down her spine. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling like a small child wishing for her father to rescue her from her confusing thoughts.

She took a deep breath, but could not meet his concerned gaze. "I…I just miss my father so much….I just wish I could see him once more to make certain he is well."

She dared a glance at the beast. He sighed in almost relief, his brow furrowed thoughtful before he smiled. Gently, he took her hands again and helped her up. "There is away…come."

Silently, they walked to his chambers in the West Wing. A sense of anxiety ran down her spine as she entered the darkness of his chambers. It was so different from the golden ballroom or the moonlight sky on the balcony. As though sensing her fear, she felt the beast squeeze her hand in reassurance. After a moment, he pulled away and moved through the darkness away from her.

Belle paused as the silence of chamber caught her attention. She remembered the beast saying there was to be no more music, but had not gone to explain further. Cautiously, she moved over and peered into the darkened music room. Large pipes and discarded sheet music littered the floor while some of the stone pillars had broken as though a fight had taken place. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to imagine what had happened.

Once more, the beast's voice broke into her thoughts as he called to her. "Belle."

She turned, shaking her head, and walked over to the small table where the beast stood.

Her gaze rested on the enchanted rose for moment, her heart aching to see the flower wilting. Only two or so months ago, it had been mostly alive, but now even the pink hue, which bounced off the bell jar seemed faded. Something felt off as she glanced over at the beast. Tentatively, he held a hand mirror out to her. "This mirror will show you anything…anything you wish to see."

Belle took it, uncertainly. Was that even possible? She bit her lip and took her deep breath. "I…would like to see…" She paused before she nodded to herself. "My father…please."

Her eyes shut as bright green glow filled with the mirror's surface. She blinked rapidly a few times before she peered at the image shown. Her breath caught in her throat, her mouth suddenly dry and her heart heavy. She wanted to tear her eyes away, but something kept them fastened to the scene. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the beast ask after, but she could not speak. "Papa….Gaston."

**DUN! DUN! Dun! Bet you weren't expecting that were you. So I added some more fluff in and yes I know the lunch scene in the movie is meant to be a nice moemnt, but it just kind of came to me as I wrote it and also "prince" and Belle as Gaston's wife had so many responaslibites and were proper and that type of thing seems to make sense in order to lighten them up. Oh and the dree Belle is wearing is the one at the end of "The Enchanted Christmas" movie.** **Please let me know what you think of the fluff, the ballroom scene, and the final scene. And School has started again so I make no promies. Anyway, please lety me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Here it is, the next chapter. I dod not own anything, but Chantal and the other plot twists. Thank you for all the reviews, they really keep me going. Once more, I have no BETAer so if there are many mess ups, they are mine and I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it.**

"What it is? What's wrong?" the beast asked. He saw the fear and confusion in her expression as she stared down at the mirror. Carefully, he stepped forward and still she did not look at him.

"It's Papa and Gaston….they're in small dark room. Gaston's asking something and…Papa's cough has gotten worse. He could be dying."

"He's not alone, Belle."

She nodded, but kept her eyes fixed on the mirror until the green glow faded. "I know, but he's…." A hint of fear laced her voice as she glanced up at him. Her large brown eyes held such anxiety and pleading him to tell her what to do.

The beast felt his heart sink, unable to answer her. How could he tell her what to do? As the master of the castle he had every right to do so, but something held him back. Unable to look at her, he turned his gaze to the bell jar, his paw resting gently against the glass. The enchanted rose stared mocking at him; at most only a few days before the last petal would fall. An awkward, heavy silence fell over between them. His ears perked at the sound of her footsteps moving toward him.

He gulped, forcing the words out through a lump in his throat. "What…do you think best?"

There was a pause. "….I want to go and see my _father_….he could be dying, Beast. Please may I go?"

His heart skipped a beat; something nagging at the back his mind. Would she leave him only to return to her husband, leaving him for died? Instantly, he pushed the thought away knowing her better than that. Her tiny emphasis on seeing her father replayed in his mind. The beast nodded to himself and dared a glance up at her.

She still held the mirror, now pressed gently against her chest, as she stared at him, her breathing slow, waiting for his answer. Inwardly, he sighed to himself as he saw the same fearful, obedient creature resurface in her in. She had even asked his permission to leave. He could refuse her request and keep things the way they were. Still, he knew he could never deny her request even at the expense of his own freedom from the curse.

"You…" He paused unable to order her to do anything.

Belle lowered her gaze to the table. After a moment, she raised her head and stared at him. "Beast, I must go…only to see that Papa is safe."

The beast gave a small nod. "Yes…you should, but do you know where he is?"

She stared down at the mirror again. "Yes."

"And will you….?" He turned away, his eyes once more falling on the rose. Once more, his ears heard her move to him and felt his hand rest on his arm. He sighed and turned back to her, unable to mask the unasked question in his eyes as he stared into hers. As though reading his thoughts she bit her lip. "I…don't know."

He heard the honestly in her answer and nodded to himself. "What about Chantal?"

She blinked, her eyebrows furrowed. "I had thought she would stay here….if that was all right with you?"

"Of course." He paused, confused. When she had traded herself in her father's place, she had begged to allow her to keep Chantal with her. What had changed her mind to leave her only daughter in his care? Once more, she seemed to read his thoughts as she lowered her eyes from his saying nothing.

The beast shifted and looked down at her. "You should go…if you wish it. I doubt Chantal will want to be left behind if she hears of your plans."

Belle nodded, laid the mirror down on the table, and glanced up at him again. Her lips tilted at the corners of her mouth in a timid, grateful smile. "Thank you…for understanding how much my father means to me and for letting Chantal stay here. I can't…." The tiny smile faded as she turned away from him.

The beast closed his eyes. How had the evening taken such a turn? He had even gotten the courage to ask her something personal even if a real relationship could never be. Now it seemed like he would never get the chance. He opened his eyes, glanced over and picked up the mirror, turning back her. "Belle."

She paused at the door and turned back to him. Carefully, he walked over to her and held out the mirror toward her. "Here, take this with you so you find your father and…." He paused and gingerly ran his paw through her silky hair. "Find your way back to….Chantal."

Her eyes locked with his for a moment. A grateful light shined through her eyes as she took the mirror into her hand. "Thank you….it should only be a few days."

A wave of warmth swept through his body as he felt her soft gloved hand rest for a moment on his fur. For a moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of something her eyes as though she could see past the fur and claws to the human he used to be. He felt his own hand rise, wanting to rest it on hers, longing to touch and hold her. Yet, she lowered her gaze and arm from his, turned and left without a word. His heart felt suddenly heavy, listening to her retreating footsteps until they faded away.

The beast sighed and turned around, the whole chamber surrounded in a palpable silence and darkness. How was it possible that mere seconds could change something so drastically? Just like the enchantress at the door all those winters ago when a few words would have changed everything for him.

"Master, are you certain…that was the wisest thing to do?" Lumiere asked, hopping over to him.

The beast smiled gently at the sound of the candelabra's voice; his voice of reason always nearby. The beast sighed as Lumiere's question replayed in his mind and he shook his head. "I don't know, but it was for her father. You didn't see her face….how could I refuse her request?"

"I know, Master, but what if something should happen. Her husband does not seem like a gentleman." The beast looked at him. "I have eyes, Master, and no man should make a women have such fear and sadness in her life."

Images of Belle's fearful face in their first few encounters to her sorrow filled gaze on Christmas Eve ran through his mind. Only in the last week or so had he really seen the change in her. Had he just allowed her to return to such a man that caused her that much pain? He turned toward the door and paused. No, he could not go back on his word to her. Inwardly, he cursed to himself and began to pace his chamber, deep in thought. He had already given his word for her to leave and to look after Chantal.

After a minute, he paused and looked over at Lumiere. "Would you… go and keep an eye on her?"

"If you wish it, Master, but I'm not sure the Madame will like it."

"Someone has too, Lumiere. You even said so yourself." A hint of irrigation mixed with concern laced his voice.

The candelabra stared at him for a moment before he bowed. "Oui, of course, Master. I shall go find her right away."

Without another word, Lumiere turned and hopped out of the West Wing, leaving the beast alone.

**XxX**

"Oh…I do not like you doing this, dear," the wardrobe whispered as she helped Belle into the blue dress.

Slipping her arms into the sleeves, Belle said, "I know but he's my father, Madame. I can't just leave him alone."

"What about Chantal?"

Belle's heart skipped a beat as she turned away from Madame's watchful gaze. Fashioning the laces, she stepped out from behind the screen and looked over at the small lump, almost lost in the numerous blankets on the massive bed. A few candles lit the chamber, illuminating Chantal. The slumbering child slept peacefully after another day of grand fun and adventure with her friend.

Quietly, Belle moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed staring down at Chantal. A candle cast a small glow upon the child's smiling face and Belle felt her heart leap into her throat. How could she explain to any of the household staff that Chantal was happier at the castle than she had ever been at home? As a mother how could she even think of tearing her away from the happiness she had found?

Belle sighed as she laid herself down on the bed, her face inches from Chantal's. She felt the warmth of breath against her face as she brushed dark bangs from her eyes. For a moment, she found she could not move, unwilling to leave the one child she had left. Perhaps the mirror's image was wrong in the scene it showed her. Yet, somehow she knew it was not a lie. Again, she pushed her hands gently through her daughter's hair. _Why….why must I go now? It's not fair._

A small tap on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts. She glanced over and saw Lumiere parched beside her, dragging a small bag with him. He leaned in close, his voice low. "Madame, if we are leave we must go. The sooner we leave the sooner we may return."

Belle said nothing, but gave a small nod. She glanced over at the mantle and saw the clock, her breath catching in her throat. It was already quarter to eleven. She turned back to her daughter and kissed her brow, whispering soothing words into her ear. Her hand lasted a moment longer, unable to let go, before she slid off the bed without disturbing the slumbering child.

Taking the bag from Lumiere, she turned to Madame. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it once more and closed her eyes. She listened as Madame walked over, resting one of her wooden arms on her shoulder. "Chantal will be fine. Go find your father, Madame….you'll see her soon."

Belle opened her eyes and nodded. "Keep an eye on her, Madame."

Madame smiled and said. "Of course, now run along."

Belle nodded to herself before she turned, slipped on her cloak, and followed Lumiere out of the bedchamber and down a few empty corridors until they reached the stable. Saddling Philippe, Belle looked over at the candelabra expertly. "Did he tell you to go with me?"

Lumiere nodded. "The master wanted someone to go with you….to make sure you weren't in any danger."

Belle blinked, a small smile forming on her face, touched by the gesture of caring for her safety. Patting the horse's neck, she asked, "Do we have everything?"

Once more, he nodded. "Everything is in the bag. Ready and waiting for you, Madame." He hopped inside the bag himself and ducked out of view.

Belle tried to chuckle, but the sound died in the throat; the weight of his words and the image from the mirror seem to fall onto her shoulders. She could still see her father's pale face and hear his worsened cough as Gaston kept asking him question after question; his irritation growing. Tears prickled at her eyes, no stranger to his temper, but she kept them at bay as she slipped the bag over her shoulder and swung up into the saddle. As though understanding her haste, Philippe galloped out of the stable and out into the snowy forest.

The dense forest seemed to block out most of the moonlight as they travelled deeper into the woods; only fragments of light slipping through the bare tree branches. Belle's heart pounded almost in time with Philippe's hooves struck the ground; kicking snow up behind him. Her wedding band necklace bounced against her chest, increasing her concern. Belle's eyes searched frantically around, searching for a path to the village.

She had never been so far away before. How was she meant to find her way back to the village? After a moment, she straightened and pulled on the reins slowing the animal to a steady walk until he stopped, shaking his head almost in confusion. Clutching the reins into her left hand, she flipped the bag open and pulled out the mirror.

Lumiere peeked out from inside; his flames offering little light in the dark. "Is something wrong, Madame?"

"No," she said, turning the mirror over in her hands. She glanced over the small candelabra. "It's just…I've never been this far from the village. Will the mirror help?"

"I imagine, but the Master was the only one who ever used it."

Belle nodded more to herself and looked back at the mirror. "All right….um mirror can you show me where…" Her voice trailed off as another sound broke the silence of the forest.

Spinning around in the saddle, she felt her breath catch in her throat as pairs of gleaming yellow eyes peered out from behind the large trees. Low growls erupted from their throats as they stared at their new meal. Her breathing became shallow as she turned and kicked Philippe into a full gallop while the wolves took chase. Belle felt her heart pounding in her ears as she kept urging the animal forward. Somewhere beside her, she heard Lumiere's voice crying out in alarm and saying that he had the mirror.

Low branches caught some of the fabric and ripped her cloak and sleeves, but she barely noticed; the wolves presence and pursuit drowning everything else out. She gasped as three wolves ran out and blocked her escape. Startled, Philippe reared and throw Belle into the snow while the reins wrapped around another branch, trapping the terrified animal even more.

Belle tried to get up, but one of the wolves gripped her cloak between his jaws, tugging her back. A deep growl from behind her caused her to turn, paralyzed in fear with another wolf only from her. He couched, ready to pounce when a roar shot broke the silence until all the other wolves scattered into the darkness while the creature collapsed in the snow, blood staining the snow. Belle drew back, fear and confusion etched on her face as she turned, trying to find her savior. For a brief moment, her hear leapt with relief; could the beast had followed her after all to make certain she got the village safely? She scrambled up to her knees and opened her mouth to call out, but another voice broke her off.

"Oh wow excellent shot, Gaston. Killing that beast with such style."

Her eyebrows furrowed; it was LoFou.

"A deeper voice answered him as he stepped into the small clearing. "That's how it's done. Now lets get it and get back…"

Belle felt her heart sink and sigh with relief at the same time as she stared at Gaston and he her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, taking each other in after two months or three months of being a part. Gaston barely seemed changed, now dressed in his large dark blue cloak and his gun at his side. His dark hair had been ruffled by the wind, but somehow it still seemed to suit him as the great village hunter. Her breath slowed in anticipation for him to speak, to scold her or something.

"Belle…where have you been?" He spoke in a whisper but his deep voice seemed to echo through the quiet wood.

She shivered and looked down at the ground, saying nothing.

"You're cold?" Instantly, he moved over to her, removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders; the large cloth almost burying her inside.

Belle opened her mouth, but still her throat remained dry; her body in shock. Had the mirror been wrong after all? Where was her father? In the distance, she heard him instruct LoFou to take Philippe and ride back to the village. She felt Gaston scope her up in her arms as though she was a rag doll and began to head back to where, she presumed his stallion was waiting.

Finally, she found her voice and pointed back. "My…bag. I need the bag."

Gaston stared down at her confused. "What are you did that old thing for?"

"Please." Her voice was small, but firm.

He shrugged, turned and retrieved it for her. "What…do you have in this thing, Belle?"

"Just…stuff." She said, lamely as he dumped it into her lap. Inwardly, she sighed in relief at the now familiar weight of both the mirror and Lumiere.

Yet, Gaston did not argue as he walked and helped her onto his own stallion. He swung himself up behind her and held her between his arms as he turned the animal back in the direction of the village. Soon, they began to pick up speed as they drew closer to the square. Lights glowed in the house windows and music playing as people waited for the New Year to begin.

Belle glanced over her shoulder, a sudden fear gripping her. "Papa….Gaston where is my father?"

Gaston pulled the horse to a halt and looked down at her. "He's fine, Belle-"

"No, I have to see him."

"And you will, trust me, he is fine. Now come on, everyone is waiting."

Belle opened her mouth, but the Gaston had already swung down and was helping her off the horse. Bright light shone through the tavern windows with a mountain voices raised in delight and cheer. Belle's heart beat faster as she listened to the joyful noise from the outside. Had the New Year come already?

As reading her thoughts, Gaston said, "It's almost midnight."

He took her arm and wrapped it around his own and walked to the tavern. Each step seemed less unreal than the last. As Gaston laid his hand on the door, Belle felt herself pull back. Gaston turned; his eyebrows frowned in confusion and slight irritation.

Belle bit her lip and gestured to her torn sleeves. "I'm not…properly dressed for a celebration."

A glint of humor lit his dark blue eyes as he squeezed her hand. "No…but then we just found each other again and everyone has been dying to know what happened with you and that we're together again as it should be?" He drew her closer, his voice low. "That's what's important, right? Besides no one could ever match your beauty before and that hasn't changed."

"I guess."

"Of course it is." He kissed on the forehead. "Now come."

He turned and pushed the door open. Belle blinked, pushing back the bright light of the tavern as they entered. Every pair of eyes turned and gawked at her until she found herself lowering her eyes, certain that her face burned red or had gone pale; she didn't know which was worse. The silence was palpable as they walked further inside, all of them following her and Gaston until they reached the center of the floor.

Gaston turned around and gestured to the waiting audience. "Monsieurs and Madames as you know I have been divested without my wife by my side. It is by some miracle that I went out hunting and saved my beloved from an attack," he smiled. "Which explains her unkempt appearance." A roar of loud good-natured laughter rose from the men until Gaston quieted them with a gesture. "And now it is time for a celebration, am I right?"

Another round of cheers and shots of agreement met his question as the music began once more. People began to chatter with each other, every so often glancing in her direction, smiling. She returned the smile, but everything felt so unreal almost like her wedding day itself….oh how long ago that was. Yet, her father had been there that day too. Her head snapped to the right as she heard someone calling her name. She turned and pushed politely passed people until she saw her father sitting in a corner.

"Papa!" She flew over and knelt down next to him. She hugged him and looked at him. "Are you all right, Papa? What happened?"

Maurice pulled her back into a hug. "Oh…I thought I would never see you again."

Belle pulled away and stared at him. "I've missed you so much, Papa, but how are you? I thought you were ill."

He smiled at her, but his eyes seemed tired. "There now, Belle, I'm all right. I'm just grateful that Gaston found you at last."

Belle paused. It had been lucky with the wolves, but she had been perfectly safe with the beast. Had her father forgotten about the whole ordeal? But then the beast was not the monster that her father saw when he was thrown out of the castle.

"Papa, I-"

"Ah, there you are Belle. I'm going to have a keep a closer eye on you." Gaston chuckled. He reached down and took her hand, smiling. "There you see, your father is fine….a little tired maybe, but then it is almost midnight."

Belle nodded as Gaston once more spirited her through the crowd of people into a small corner. He pulled her in close again, his large hand pressed against her back. "Oh I've missed you, Belle. It was so boring without you. I…." His voice trailed off as he looked down at her. Pulling back, he slid his hand under the wedding band hung on a string. "What is this?"

"I did not want it to get lost when I was in the woods."

Gaston smiled as he moved both his hands up and unclasped the latch. "That was very sensible Belle, but you're home now." He slid the ring off the chain, it handing in his large palm. He took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. "For now and forever right?"

Belle nodded, unable to speak, the ring heavy and cold against her skin. She looked up at him. In the background, she heard the other villagers beginning to the countdown. Gaston kept a hold of her hand and stroked her hair. "You came back…my fair Genevieve came back to your Arthur."

Belle's breath caught in her throat as he moved his hand caressing the nape of her neck. A roar of cheers swept through the tavern as friends raised their glasses in celebration. Gaston leaned in close, his face inches from hers.

"Happy New Year, Belle. This is the going to be the beast New Year." Their lips met in a forceful kiss.

**Well what did you think? And for all those who say that Gaston wouldn't know who Arthur was, in the scene at the start of the film said that it wasn't right for WOMEN to read and think. That does not mean that he belived the same for men.** **What did you think about Belle leaving Chantal with the beast? Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed it. Mre coming soon. :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**Here is the next. School and midterms kept busy, but here is it finally. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. I hope you enjo it. **

Belle paused, her hand pausing in mid brush through her hair as she stared at her reflection in the small vanity mirror. She barely recognized herself with the light in her eyes and the small tilt of her lips into a smile at the mere thought of the beast. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she had been humming their dance tone to herself. Quickly, she averted her gaze, setting the brush down, and rested her right hand over her wedding band. She shook her head. No, how could she even think of another person now that she was back with her husband?

A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered Gaston's rage when they had returned to their home after the celebration. She still felt the bruises on her arms where he had roughly grabbed her, demanding to know where she had been and why she had taken his ring off. His alcoholic breath had twisted her stomach as she had tried in vain to explain everything to him. After a few minutes, he collapsed on the bed in a drunken slumber. She glanced over at the bed, where she had hidden the mirror after she had returned home. Every night, she longed to ask the mirror to show her Chantal, but fear of discovery kept it safely hidden beneath the mattress.

A knock on the front door aroused her from her thoughts as she moved away and down the stairs to answer it. A small smile slid on her face at the sight of the midwife standing outside.

"Oh, Madame, please come in." Belle said, standing aside to allow the older woman to enter.

The midwife smiled ingratitude as she went in and moved into the small sitting room.

"My dear, I could hardly believe it when the news came that you were back. Where were you all this time?" She took a seat on the small couch.

"I had tried to find my father and had gotten lost until Gaston came and saved me." Belle smiled softly, the practiced half line of truth slipping easily from her lips. "Would you like some tea, Madame?"

The midwife nodded. "Oui, thank you. It must have been dreadful being away all those weeks."

Belle nodded and moved into the kitchen to prepare the tea. The last few days had seemed to drag on, each one blurring into each other with different people coming to the house to check in her on. It felt strange at how easily she slipped back into the role of Gaston's little wife, though she had rarely seen him after that night. He rose early each day only to return late in the evening. Was he not happy to see her?

"Are you happy to be home again?" the midwife asked as Belle brought in the tea.

"I…" She paused. "In all honestly no, Madame. I came back to see my father who I have not seen since New Year's Eve and Gaston never pays any attention to me always off hunting or God only knows what else." A lace of bitterness and sadness filled her voice.

The midwife stared at her for a moment. "It is a woman's duty to be beside her husband until death parts them or have you for gotten those vows."

"Oui, I know. It is because of my duty that I returned, but I did not come back here just to be ignored or to be just his _little wife_ again."

The midwife set her cup on the table. "Well…thank you for the tea, but I must be on my way. I merely come by to welcome you back home." She stood and grabbed her clock. "I am glad to see you are well. Have a good day."

Belle followed her to door and bid her a farewell as she walked down the road toward the village. As the midwife disappeared, Belle felt her heart rise a little as her own words sunk in. She had not returned to be one of Gaston's many trophies that he only paid attention to once in a while, waiting on him and letting him tell her what she could do or not. Grabbing her own cloak, she slipped outside and headed to her father's cottage.

The village square was packed as usual, but the cold air kept everyone masked by cloaks and hats as people hurried past each other. Still, she felt uneasy as she walked down the street, yet, each time she turned around, she found no one following her. Belle breathed a sigh of relief as she crossed the bridge which separated her childhood home from the village. She smiled as she heard Philippe greet her with a cheery whinny at her approach. She dug into her pocket and pulled out an apple and held it out to the animal.

"There you go, boy. You deserve it after our fright in the woods. You were so brave." She patted the horse neck before she turned and headed to the cottage.

The door opened easily as she stepped inside the cold main room. The cold air and dust surrounded her as though the fire had not been lit or the room been swept for days. Fear shot through her as she yelled out for her father in vain. Quickly, she turned and ran down to his old workshop. The sound of clatter stilled her heart with relief as she moved down inside the darkened invention room. She blinked as she tried to adjust her eyes to the dark, the only light source coming from the opened door.

"Papa! Papa, are you here?" She called out.

The sound of clatter stopped and hurried footsteps moved further back into the darkness. Belle's eyes knitted together in confusion as she took a few steps forward, her eyes searching the darkened room.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"No…I'm not going back there. You can't make me." Maurice cried in anger before he let out cough.

"What…do you mean, Papa?"

Another cruel cough echoed through the workroom. "I already told you….and Belle's back now…"

"Yes, Papa, I'm back. Please tell me what-"

"Belle?" Maurice stepped into the dappled light. Confusion shined through his eyes as he stared at her, his face pale.

Belle sucked in a short breath as she ran over to him. "Papa, what's wrong?"

Maurice shook his head and pulled away from her. "I'm not going back. I'm not."

Belle reached out, resting a gentle hand on his arm. "Papa, come back into the house, please."

Maurice nodded and held out his hand, allowing her to guide him back into the cottage. As she lit the fire and began a pot of tea, she remembered all those times when she had had to remind her father that there was life behind his little shop and when she had fixed the fire and meals while he talked and engaged her in interesting conversations.

Yet, everything was wrong as Maurice sat at the table, staring off into space lost in his own thoughts. In the natural light, she saw his figure slumping as though he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he did look in her direction, she saw the dark circles around his dull blue eyes; each time she had to turn away from her, the guilt weighing heavy on her heart. How had she not seen any of this before? What had happened to him? Her hands shook as she set the cups of warm tea down and sat across from him. An awkward silence fell between them as Maurice stared at the cup in his hands.

"Papa, please tell me, what's wrong."

Maurice shook his head and once more stated that he was never going back to some unknown place. An image of the mirror scene flashed through her mind as a shiver ran down her spine. Belle reached out her hand toward him. "Papa, where have you been?"

Maurice glanced over at her, his eyes glossed over. "He said that I was crazy. The beast could have been real. You're insane, he kept saying over and over again. Wanted me to take him to you saying I had taken you away on purpose. That was denying his vows as your husband and turning my back on God." He shivered. "It was so dark, always dark."

Belle felt her heart tighten, but she pressed onward. "Papa, do you know where you were?"

He reached over and squeezed her hand, staring into her wide eyes. "The asylum. Last night I told him everything again and he was so upset that he and Monsieur just left. Then the little man, Lafou, came back and released me, saying that you had been found and brought me to the tavern under strict orders not to say anything to you or else I go back there."

Belle stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. How had she not seen that something was wrong? She tried to remember the night she had returned with Gaston. How could Lafou have gotten back and taken her father to the tavern before they had? Yet, with everything that had happened that night, she could not remember how long the ride back had actually taken.

When she had seen her father, he seemed so much better if not a little hung over by all the celebrating. Gaston had also whisked her away soon after and had kept her busy unable to really see her father again that evening. Her stomach twisted into knots as she realized her folly in keeping the truth from her father all these years.

She gulped, wetting her dry throat. "Papa, you're not crazy. I _was_ with the beast."

Maurice shrank away from her and shook her head. "No…it was a lie….it was a lie."

Belle shook her head. "No, it wasn't. Gaston is not a good man, Papa."

"What do you mean?"

"He…" She paused. "He doesn't love me."

Maurice looked at her. "And you think that horrible beast does? What about Chantal?"

"Belle held up her hand. "Chantal is fine. I left her with the beast while I came to look for you."

"How could you have left her with that Beast! He could do anything to her."

"I know, but he's different now, Papa. He's changed…somehow. Chantal is safer with him."

Belle took a deep breath and rolled up her selves to reveal the bruises. She winced and averted her gaze, unable to look at her father. She felt his gaze intensify as he stared at her arms.

Each second felt like agony as she remembered her father's joy all those years ago when she had accepted the marriage proposal. What could he think of her now? Would he take care of her as he had when she was still a child or turn from her like everyone else in the village? The pain of her marriage all acceptable in their eyes as a married woman. She longed to look at him, but she could not, afraid to see the latter answer in his eyes. She listened as he pushed his chair back and raised her eyes to his back as he walked out of the room without a word.

**XxX**

Belle paced the length of the small bedchamber anxiously; the conversation with her father still circling in her mind. How could they make him believe he was crazy when he had seen the beast with his own eyes? Yet, she knew Gaston's power as well. Still the longer she thought about it, the easier it seemed to believe that it had all been a dream after these last few days. She admitted had it not been for the mirror and Lumiere's presence, she would have thought herself insane as those locked behind bars. She paused as she caught sight of flickering firelight bouncing off the mirror.

"What troubles you, Madame?" Lumiere asked, watching her with concerned eyes.

Belle sighed. "I…don't know, Lumiere. My papa is…" Her voice trailed off at the sound of heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.

Quickly, she grabbed the candelabra and put him in the closet closing the closet door just the bedroom door opened. She forced a smile on her face as she turned around. "Oh, Gaston, what a pleasant surprise."

Gaston stared at her. "It is a surprise to see your husband?"

Belle let out a small laugh and shook her head. "Oh, no, I merely meant it was nice to see you since lately you have been coming back later."

"I come home you mean."

Belle paused for a moment. "Yes, of course, that's what I meant."

Gaston shook his head. "What is wrong with you, Belle? You seem so distant." He paused. "You should be happy. We can finally be a family again. Start over fresh."

She stared at her. "What about Chantal?"

"You said she died while you were away and now you can focus on the true duties of a wife." He smiled and moved forward, kissing her on the forehead. "Later tonight, hm."

Belle felt pile burn at her throat at his touch, but kept silent; biting her tongue to keep the vile words at bay. She swallowed, the saliva wetting her throat enough to answer. "Yes…I'll be right down to make dinner."

Gaston smiled again and gently ran his fingers through her hair. "Yes….I have other things to attend to at the moment. Come down when you're ready."

Belle watched him leave, closing the door behind him, and listened as his footsteps faded away down the stairs. She shivered as her hand rose to her forehead. All the gestures felt possessive, needing to be in control, as though she was truly just another trophy to him.

Even at the dance when the beast had gained more confidence in the dance, he always treated her with delicate care, while never making her feel like a child. Belle sighed and moved over to the bed and took the mirror out. The frame felt cool against her skin as she stared at her reflection. Would the magic still work outside the castle? She glanced over at the closet and nodded to herself. Lumiere was still alive...so maybe.

She sighed and looked back at the mirror. "Can I see my father please?"

The mirror glowed and she saw her father sleeping peacefully in his bed. She longed to question Gaston of what her father told her. Yet, she could not find the right words nor did she know his wretch at asking him. She sighed in relief. "Oh Papa, I'm so sorry so about our last conversation this afternoon."

"So, it is true." Gaston cried banging the door open."You did see that senile old father of yours."

Belle spun around, pressing the mirror against her chest. She remembered the feeling she had felt in the village square as though someone had been following her. Anger pulsed through her as the truth began to sink in. All the people coming to the cottage had been his eyes while he was gone. His grip tightened on the mirror as she stood up and faced him.

"He is my father, Gaston. What have you done to him!" She said.

Gaston rolled his eyes. "He was crazy, Belle. I did what had to be done. All this talk about some beast in a castle. Come to your senses, Belle. None of that could exist."

Belle remained silent.

Gaston strode over and grabbed ht mirror from her. "How does this work?" He looked at the mirror. "Show me, this beast."

Belle felt her heart skip a beat as the familiar green glow lit the mirror's surface until it faded to show the beast. She heard Chantal's laughter and imagined her sweet face smiling in the beast's company, something she had never done in her father's. A small smile slid onto her face as she listened to the strains of her laughter as the image faded. Gaston stared the mirror.

"What have you done?" He turned on her. "You left my daughter with that beast! It was your duty as a wife to keep my children safe. Not only do you fail, but you yourself went to him, you little harlot."

Once more, Belle shook her head and pulled the mirror from him. "No! It was my duty as a wife that kept me from seeing what you truly are." She looked down at the mirror and then glared at Gaston, the years of hurt, pain, and anger shining in her eyes. "He's no monster Gaston, you are!"

"I see the time away has certainly loosened your tongue, my dear Belle." He gripped her shoulders and drew her close to him. "I will find our daughter and kill this damned monster before he can hurt anyone else."

"You never cared about her before." As the words left her lips, she knew that it was true. Gaston only cared about being control, beauty, and sons. He never cared for Chantal even when she was ill. Yet, the beast had. He had never said it aloud, but through his actions she knew that he needed no other child than Chantal. She was pulled from her thoughts as Gaston's grip tightened on her arms.

"Maybe it was you who never cared!" He threw her back on the bed, her head sticking against the bed board as she collapsed onto the mattress.

Belle felt the mirror being pulled from her grasp as Gaston took it from her before she slipped into darkness.

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I know a lot happened, but** **we are coming toward the down hill for the story in a sense. Please review and let me know what you think. What did you think of Maurice and Belle's talk. And the reveal to Gaston about the beast. Please let me know and thank you so mcuh for sticking with this story. :) More coming soon.**


	28. Chapter 29

**Here you guys are. I am giving you thi gift, intead of doing my homework. I own nothing, but Chantal, everything else belongs to Disney. I also have no BETA so pleae forgive me if I made any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it.**

A light groan escaped her lips as she regained consciousness, her head now resting comfortably in a soft pillow. Belle blinked, trying to remember where she was. She shivered as the cold air swept over her; only a few embers still glowed in the hearth while the rest of room hung in darkness. She glanced over and saw stars hanging in the black sky. How long had she been out? A sense of panic suddenly seized her as she tried to rise from the bed. Her head throbbed as she tried to sit up, but she froze as cold metal touched her hand.

"Easy, Madame, it's all right." Lumiere said from beside her.

Inwardly, Belle sighed in relief at the sound of the candelabra's voice. She lowered herself back into the pillow, millions of questions racing through her mind unable to be voiced, her throat suddenly dry. How long had she been out? How had Lumiere gotten out of the wardrobe? Where was Gaston? Her heart skipped a beat as their conversation ran through her mind.

She could still hear Chantal's laughter from within the mirror and sense the beast looking in her direction as though he saw her through the mirror as well. She longed to feel his presence near her. Despite his claws and his beastly body, he had a way of making her feel safe and secure, knowing he would always listen to her and he was always so gently with Chantal unlike her father. He's no monster Gaston, you are!

Once more, Belle' heart skipped a beat as she remembered Gaston's response about killing the beast in order to get Chantal back. Where had he gone? Ignoring the pain in her head, she pushed herself up and slid off the bed, the cold wood floor sending shivers through her mind. She swayed as the room spun around her, but managed to stay on her feet.

She heard Lumiere's voice protesting her actions, but she ignored him heading for the door, her arms out stretched to steady herself. As she reached the doorknob, it twisted and opened as Maurice stepped inside carrying a plate of food.

His eyes grew wide. "Belle, what in God's name are you doing out of bed?"

"Papa, what are you doing here?" She felt the guilt swirl in her stomach from their last conversation. Quickly, she averted her eyes.

Maurice gulped and reached out a hand to her. "I…wanted to apologize for our last meeting…." His voice trailed off as he looked at her. "Belle, what happened?"

Belle shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Papa. I need to leave now."

"What are you talking about?"

Belle stared at her father, her eyes solemn. "He…Gaston knows about the beast and he plans to kill him."

Maurice grabbed her arm. "Are you certain?"

Belle nodded and shivered as an image of Gaston's face formed in her mind. His blue eyes had almost turned back with rage when he had realized the truth. Who knew what he would do to the beast or Chantal? She had been a fool to have ever come back to him and time was running out. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Lumiere hopping over to them.

"Do you know the way back to the castle? Gaston took the mirror."

Lumiere nodded. "Oui, Madame, but it may take me a little longer. It's been so long since I was outside the castle."

Belle nodded. It had to be quick enough. She turned back to her father. "Papa, please I have to do this…there isn't time to argue."

"That beast deserves to be-"

"Papa, I told you he has changed. He's taken care of both Chantal and I more than Gaston ever did. I have to stop this before either of them gets hurt." Her eyes were wide, pleading with him to understand.

Maurice sighed, a small smile forming on his face. "You are so like your mother. I had forgotten her fiery spirit. She always fought for what she wanted, especially someone she cared about. Do you care about this…him?"

Belle faltered. She cared for him of course, but love had never factored in except with Chantal. She looked at him. "I…Papa, I have to save them."

Maurice's smile grew as he stepped closer and slide the wedding band off her finger. "Who am I to tell my daughter to what to do as a woman?"

Belle's heart soared as she reached out and kissed him on the top of his head. Soft words of gratitude left her lips as she pulled away from him; Maurice's own hand squeezing hers in reassurance.

"Madame, we must move." Lumiere cried, moving past her and down the hall.

Belle nodded and ran after him, the weight of her wedding vows fading away with each step. She only prayed she was not too late.

**XxX**

The beast paced up and down his chambers, his anxiety growing as he listened to the rain beating against the windows. He had left Chantal in the library with Chip and Mrs. Potts working on some kind of invention of hers. He loved spending time with the child, but now he felt the antagonizing confusion whenever he thought of Belle.

Only a few days had turned into a week of her being away. Had something gone wrong? She had sworn that she had just gone to see her father. The beast shook his head. How could he have been so stupid to believe it would happen? She was a married woman why would she not wish to go see her husband no matter how horrible he?

Even the nobles and noblewomen took marriage seriously despite the whisper of affairs that filled the castle gossip. Had he been no more than a substitute for Belle while she was away for her handsome husband? The beast shook his head once more, Belle was better than that. When they had first met, she had been a scared woman completely terrified to do anything to upset him, but over the course of time they had spent together she had came out his shell, just as he had.

He paused and glanced over the enchanted rose. The bright glow had faded and only three petals still hung onto the last bits of life. At best there only a few hours before the last one fell. Yet, as time passed the ending of the curse seemed to be further from his mind with Chantal and Belle's happiness before his own.

His ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Who is it?"

"It's, um, myself, Cogsworth, your highness. Were you expecting someone else?"

The beast felt his heart jump. "No…have you heard or seen anything?"

Cogsworth fiddled with his arms nervously. "Oh…that is to say…." He cleared his throat. "No….there has been no news or sighting of either of them, Sire."

The beast growled in annoyance. Not for the first time he cursed and was grateful the mirror was out of his reach unable to look upon her. He longed to see her safe yes, but found that his blood boiled at even the notion of her being with her husband let alone seeing it. Yet, what of Chantal?

Belle had entrusted her to his care, but he could still see the longing the child had to see her father and mother again. His heart went out for the young girl whenever he saw her in the care of the servants, remembering his own feelings of abandonment when his parents had passed away.

"Um….Your Highness?" Cogsworth said.

The beast startled, unaware the head of the house hold had been there the whole time. "What is it, Cogsworth?"

"Well…mistress Chantal wants to show off her new invention in the courtyard or rather just before the courtyard as it is raining. The grand….the…oh I can never remember her crazy names for them."

The beast smiled. "Oh all ready?…I will be there soon."

Cogsworth bowed. "Of course, Sire." He paused and gestured to the ball jar. "Sire…what about the….?"

The beast sighed, following the clock's gaze to the rose. "I…don't Cogsworth. Just please go and tell Chantal that I will be there soon."

Without another word, Cogsworth bowed and slipped from the chamber. The beast felt his heart grow heavy as Cogsworth question ran through his mind. In the back of mind, he had been prepared to remain in this creature's body forever, but what of the others, the innocent who had been cursed with him? Could not they at least have their humanity back?

He placed his claws gingerly on the ball jar as though feeling the last beats of life from the fragile rose. Closing his eyes, he made his silent wish before he sighed in frustration at the childish act of wishing. It had gotten him nowhere why would that change now? In a huff, he turned away and began to walk down toward the main courtyard. Turning a corner, he saw Mrs. Potts staring out one of the windows. Curious he moved closer and saw his old nurse shaking though weather from fear or excitement he did not know.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Potts?" he asked.

Mrs. Potts almost jumped back at the sound of his voice. "Oh…I didn't see you there. Are you going to see Chantal's invention?"

"Yes, but what were you looking at just now?"

Mrs. Potts hopped back over to the window. "I was on my way back from the kitchen and I thought I saw someone coming across the drawbridge, though I can't be sure, you know my old eyes and the rain."

The beast could not help, but smile. Despite her age, Mrs. Potts had always seen everything he had done as a child. Her next words pulled him from his thoughts.

"But I know I saw something glow…it was like a bright green against the darkness."

The beast's heart skipped a beat. Could it finally be Lumiere and Belle returning to them, using the mirror to guide them? He leaned against the glass, unable to wait. His harp eyes spotted the green glow of the mirror instantly with a figure approaching fast on horseback before he reined in the creature and continued on foot. Yet, something felt strange as he stared at the darkened figure more and more.

The height of the figure was tall, almost as tall as him with long strides while Belle had always been slow and graceful like a ballerina. He was picking up his speed and heading for the main courtyard. It was an intruder! He tore his eye away from the window, a low growl rumbled in his throat as he dashed away, his paws skidding across the marble floor with his fierce pace; only his sensitive ears picked up the sound of Mrs. Potts hopping after him.

Rounding a corner, he paused, spotting Cogsworth, Chip, and Chantal bent over a small wooden box of sorts. A part of her invention, he assumed as he took a deep breath and walked over to them. Chantal looked up first, her blue eyes shining with excitement and she called over to him.

"Beast…come over here. We're almost ready, right, Chip?"

The small teacup responded with his own enthusiasm. "Right, Chantal. It's gonna be great!"

The beast nodded and tried to smile at the child, but his senses are all ready on alert, needing to get outside. Who knew how long it would take for the intruder to reach the castle? Uneasy, he shifted his weight from one foot to another before an idea struck.

"Chantal…listen why don't we wait to show it until your mother comes back." His voice broke as the words left his mouth, remembering when the servants would say that to him. He gulped and tried to keep his voice soft as he moved around her, closer to the door. "Let's play hide and seek. You go hide while I count to a hundred."

Chantal opened her mother to argue, but Mrs. Potts stepped her, panting. "Yes, your mother should be along shortly, dear." She glanced anxiously at the master. "We can go play for now, all right. Let's go and hide before the master finishing his counting, hurry now."

The beast watched silently as Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth ushered the children away from the door and down the corridor, her last words echoing in his mind. Was the intruder closer than he thought? He shook his head and turned, threw open the door, and stepped out into the pounding rain. For a moment, he remembered going out into the snow storm to rescue the child he had only known for a day or so. Now he had to protect her from this unknown danger. He moved further into the courtyard, the rain soaking into his fur as he pushed the fur from his eyes.

For once he was grateful for his animal senses, his sharp eye able to see through the thick rain, his ears picking up the slightest sound. His whole body grew tense as he crouched down, waiting. He did not wait long as a tall, strapping man came into view, the mirror clutched in his large hand. Stray bit of his jet black hair was plastered on his forehead while a small cloak shielded him from the rain. His eyes grew dark as he stared at the beast. "Where is she, you monster?"

The beast blinked, momentary confused; the natural question slipped out before he could stop it. "Who?"

The man remained where he stood; disgust and rage filled his face. "My daughter, the young girl you wanted to eat for your dinner. It will not happen, where is she?"

The beast stared at him, his breath caught in his throat. This man was Belle's husband and Chantal's father. All his old fears came flooding back to him the longer he stared at the men. By all accounts he was the perfect man, strong and beautiful one any women would love to be married too. His heart grew heavy as he felt his _claws_ scrap against the cobblestones.

How had he thought Belle or Chantal ever saw anything other than a hideous beast next to the man standing before him? He recalled Chantal calling out for her father once or twice in her sleep when she had fallen asleep in the library. Who was he to deny her the right to see her father? The beast sighed and turned, calling out for Chantal.

The child popped her head out and ran over to him. "What are you doing out here?"

"Chantal, it's my your Papa!" the man cried, taking a step forward.

She turned and cried for joy. "Papa, Papa. Is it really you?"

The man nodded. "Come, we're going home."

"I want to stay here. Maman said stay here."

"Your Maman made a mistake. I want you to come home." Gaston's voice was soft, the beast barely heard it. Yet, there no doubt the sincerity beneath his last sentence.

Still, Chantal moved back closer to the beast, shivering from the rain. "No…Maman said to stay here."

Gaston clenched the mirror tighter, his body shook. The beast recognized the motion as he had done it many times, the fight to keep the anger under control. "You do not realize it, but he's a beast! A Monster!"

The beast's eyes grew wide as the man ripped out a bow and arrow and aimed it at them. The beast shoved Chantal back and blocked the arrow with his paw. An intense pain soared through him, but he did not give into the pain. He forced his voice back to the gruff and commanding quality it had once held to make her understand. "Get inside."

"No!"

Another arrow was shot as the beast dodged it, cradling his wounded paw in the other. The beast listened as Chantal ran back inside just before a third arrow struck his shoulder. The dance of attack and dodge continued, but the beast kept himself between the man and the castle.

"You won't take her from me, you Monster! They need a strong man to protect them, not a pitiful creature." The man taunted as he advanced on the beast.

The beast winced at the words as he backed away from the hunter. Once more, his fears were betraying him. Was what the man said true? His head throbbed from the pain as he dodged another arrow, crashing down onto the ground against his opened shoulder wound. _Maybe he's right…he does deserve them where I do not_. He felt the hunter move, standing above him now. His ears perked up at the sound Gaston's baritone voice through the storm.

"How could she love a thing like you? The stupid girl and her whore of a mother never knowing what's best for them. Do you know what you cost me? I was a laughing stock unable to keep my wife and that brat. But they are mine!"

The beast's eyes snapped open as his words ran through his mind. The man did not care anything for Chantal or Belle, it was all about him. A new wave of anger and strength flowed through him as he flung around, grabbing the bow and tossing it aside as he gripped the man's neck. Terror washed over the man's face as he began to beg for mercy; his thick neck like a twig in the beast's larger paws. The beast watched as his blood ran down the man's neck, merging with his red shirt. It would be so easy as he felt his hand tighten the slightest around his neck.

"Beast!" Chantal's voice broke into his thoughts.

His head snapped around as the girl stared at him, her eyes wide with terror and surprise. Her gaze seemed to be pleading with him to stop. The beast's gaze softened as he turned back to Gaston. If he killed in cold blood, how would he any different than her father? Bringing the man closer, he sneered, "Get out!"

He shoved him away and moved back over to Chantal. Picking her up, he smiled at her through the pain the movement caused "Come let's go back to our-"

"Beast! Chantal!" Belle's voice seemed to soar over the storm as she rode up on horseback. Her breathing was heavy as she pulled the horse to a stop and slide off the animal's back. Relief shone on her face as she knelt down and scooped up her daughter, who had run over, kissing her and mumbling her name.

A sharp pain soared through his side as a cold metal object dug into him. He roared and waved his arms trying to see through the searing agony. In the distance, he heard Belle cry out in her own anguish and surprise and footsteps stumbling backward with a yelp of pain before everything went silent and dark.

**Well, I hope it wa worth the wait. I know many people wanted Belle to remove the ring herself, but with Maurice doing it, I thought it worked. As though he said, I release you from the marriage I "forced" you into. Also even if the ring is gone that does not mean that Belle is going to let go that easily with her marriage vows. So I hope that worked. Also this really was a fight between Gaston and the beast so I thought I mob would be to much. **

**Please let me know what you think. :) More will becoming soonish. **


	29. Chapter 28

**Here is the next chapter. It is really chapter 29, I had some trouble and that's why the last one said 29. I hope that did not confuse people. I own nothing, but Chantal and the plot twists.** **Everything else belongs to Disney. Oncemore I have no BETAer for this story, so if I make any mistakes I am sorry. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

Belle felt her heart drop into her stomach as her hand flew in front of Chantal's innocent eyes. The whole scene felt like a painting or scene from one of her books when the monster had been vanquished by the prince. Gaston lay lifeless on the ground, blood bled onto the stones from an open head wound. His empty crossbow had slide back into a darkened corner little ways off from his right hand.

Belle shivered, the beast's painful roar still ringing in her ears as her gaze shifted over to the beast, his own blood falling onto the cobblestones from his numerous wounds. Her mind screamed at her that he needed medical attention, but her heart was filled with crushing guilt as she stared at him. All of it was her fault.

"Maman, Maman, we have to help him!" Chantal pulled away from her grip and ran over to the fallen creature, her small hands trying to vain to help.

Belle blinked, the spell terror broken as she moved over and knelt down beside Chantal and the beast. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the arrow sticking out from his side. She longed to turn her eyes away, but found she could not as her fingers moved up through his thick warm fur, resting against his neck. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips as she felt the weak pulse. She sent a silent prayer as she heard a moan of pain escaped the beast's lips, his blue eyes fluttering open. His gaze flicked between the two until the rested on Chantal.

"Are… you…all right?" He choked out.

Chantal nodded. "Oui, are you, Beast?"

The beast breathed heavy, but managed a small smile through the pain. "I'm…fine, little one. Go…find …the others okay?"

Chantal blinked, fighting back tears as she looked back at her mother. Belle gave a small nod, unable to say anything. Chantal nodded to herself before she scrambled up and ran back toward the castle doors, calling out for any of the servants. Belle watched until she was out of ear shot before she turned back to the beast, her own eyes wet with oncoming tears. Gingerly, she shifted over and placed her hand on the arrow, its cold lifeless touch sending shivers down her spine. A few tears ran down her face as she forced her fingers to curl around it.

_It was all my fault_.

"Be…Belle, leave… it." The beast choked out.

She gulped, forcing her voice to remain calm. "It… has to come out or it could become…infected."

"Lea…leave it." He reached over, ignoring the eminence pain and rested his paw on her arm. "I…just glad…you came back…"

Belle paused and glanced over at him, their eyes locking. She gulped, but did not look away from him. "Of course…I came back…I promised."

The beast lowered his gaze. "Is…that all?"

Belle shook her head. "No…I couldn't let him!" More tears began to roll down her cheeks. "If only I had gotten here sooner." She paused, positioning her hand around the arrow. "This might hurt a little."

The beast roared in agony, but it was less gruff than when she had tended to his wounds all those months ago after the wolf attack. A lump lodged in her throat. Twice he had saved her daughter from danger at the cost of his own life. How could she ever repay him for what he had done? Yet, if he died it would not matter.

She raised her head, her gaze scanning the silent courtyard. How long would it take for Chantal to get help? Quickly, she unclasped her cloak and pressed it to his wound, applying pressure. They had to get back inside, but she was not strong enough to carry him. She bit her lip in thought while more tears began to roll down her face. A shiver of surprise and sadness ran down her spine as the beast's paw reached up and caressed her cheek, forcing her to look back at him.

A small glint of something shone in his eyes as he stared up at her. As though reading her fearful thoughts, he said, "It…'s all…right, Belle. Cha…ntal is fine and…" He paused, wiping away her tears with the last of his strength. "At…least I got to see you…one last time." He forced a smile. "You're…fre…" His voice trailed off as he fell unconscious, his paw dropping from her cheek onto the cold ground.

Belle felt her heart stop as she leaned over him, pressing her cloak against his side as though she could keep the blood of life from living him. It did not matter if Gaston was gone and she was free. Freedom meant nothing to her if the beast was not there.

Shaking her head in a despaired denial, she cried, "No…no. Please….I don't want this!" Her fingers dug deeper into her cloak. He had been her strength for all these months and now he needed her. "You can't leave us…." A lump caught in her throat, but she swallowed it and leaned down closer to his ear, whispering. "I…love you."

As the last word left her lips, she felt something inside her snap. She felt his heartbeat as she lay against his chest, but how much longer would it beat? Her body shook as the sadness engulfed her, allowing her tears to flow freely. In the distance, she heard the soft rumbles of an upcoming storm. A chocked half hearted laugh escaped her lips as she thought the irony. He had been able to save her and Chantal so many times, but now she could not even save him from advancing rain shower.

Closing her eyes, Belle forced herself to turn away from him. Now she needed to concentrate on Chantal and the others in the castle. Gentle raindrops fall upon her face, mixing with her tears, as she forced herself to stand on numb legs. She felt her heart sink into her stomach as she stared down at the beast's almost lifeless form. Biting her lip, she glanced back in the direction of the castle. Where was everyone? How far had they been from the door?

_Either way…they deserve to know the truth_. Belle sucked in a breath as she tried out the impending explanation in her mind, but she could fins the correct words. Somehow she could find the words as though something blocked the impending fact from her mind. Shaking her head, she sighed and turned away from the beast, heading back toward the castle. She tried calling out to the servants and Chantal, but her throat had gone dry as she paused at the threshold, her hand resting on the doorframe, supporting her weakened body.

She shivered as a strong wind blew against her back. Her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened on the doorframe, somehow managing to stay on her feet. The raindrops seemed to dig into her back the struck against her. Her mind raced with the strangeness of it all, but she dared not look back. After a moment, the rain returned to normal while the wind died down as though the whole thing had not occurred at all.

Belle blinked and placed her hand over her heart as it began to slow its rate back to normal. _What was that? It…_

A loud moan of pain broke into her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat Old fears began to surface as more shivers ran down her spine. No, it could not him. For a moment, she glanced down at her barren fingers and gulped. She shook her head, forcing her head to remain high. She would not give into him again. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Gaston had not moved, but the beast had vanished. In his place lay a slender, furless figure. He forced himself to stand, her cloak falling to the ground to reveal a completely healed side. Belle watched silently as the figure stumbled around, staring at himself in awe as though he could barely believe it himself. Belle gulped, but kept her head high, fighting the urge to lower her eyes as she sensed his gaze upon her. How was any of this possible?

"Belle… I'm all right." The figure said, slowly moving toward her.

Belle's eyes squinted in confusion as he came into the light of the corridor. The figure was a slender man; his cloths were torn and too large for his body. Long reddish brown hair hung around unkempt around his face as though it were a lion's mane. Her heart skipped a beat as he reached out and grabbed her hands. She felt the warm blood from open wounds run over her hands, but she could not look away from the strange man.

"Belle, it's me." His voice was soft and full of awe, echoing her own feelings as she stared at him.

Pulling her hands away, she took a step back. "Where…is the beast?"

The man blinked and took another step forward. "Belle…it's me, really, it is."

Belle felt her breathing slow as the notion kept rolling around in her mind. No, it could not be true. She glanced down at her hands covered in his blood and shook her head. She had felt the life draining from the beast as it had done with her sons at the hands of a man. Where was the beast she loved? Fear suddenly shot through her as she thought of Chantal. Without a word, she turned and ran down the corridor, ignoring his calls for her to return.

She did not know where she was going, but she had to get away and find her daughter. She tried to call out for her, but her throat had suddenly gone dry as more tears began to roll down her cheeks. How was any of this possible? When she had been watching him, she had debated if the whole ordeal was just a dream, but she had felt his warm flesh and blood when he had grabbed her hands. What was happening? Belle shook her head and brushed her tears away as the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention.

She turned and saw Chantal running over to her, a large smile on her face. "Maman, Maman! They've changed, they've changed!"

Belle blinked. "What…do you mean, Sweetheart?"

Chantal came to a stop in front of her and called out for Chip. A young boy came around the corner dressed in blue trousers and a white shirt. He smiled sheepishly as he walked over to them. Could he really be Chip? Slowly, she reached out and touched his cheek, his skin soft under her touch. How was it possible and what about the other members of the staff?

Chantal pulled at Belle's hand excitingly. "They…they're all like us, Maman. Chip…he's a boy and everyone is…"

"Human." Belle said softly, the simple word feeling strange on her tongue. She remembered her last words to Gaston calling him out on all his cruelty as a monster. Yet, it did not work the other way around. Did it? She stared at the small boy in front of her with the same large, innocent blue eyes as the teacup had had. His hair was a light sandy brown with a shy smile as he stared back at her.

Chantal nodded. "Well…once they changed, I told them about the beast and they said to go look for you. Are you okay?"

Belle nodded and brought her into a hug. "Oui, I'm fine. Are you, Chantal?"

"Oui, and how's the beast?"

"Is the master okay?" the boy, Chip, asked in the familiar voice she had come to learn.

Belle paused and looked back in the direction of the courtyard. The most lethal wound had healed, but there were still the medium cuts in his hands. She suppressed a shiver as she felt the blood upon her hands. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm…sure he is fine, little one."

"Can we go play now?"

Belle let out a small laugh and nodded, ruffling Chantal's hair. "Of course, be good now."

Chantal nodded and ran off back down the corridor to find her friend. Belle watched with awe as the children ran down the passageway and disappeared. After a moment, she pushed herself up and headed back to her chamber, the same question kept running through her mind. What would they do now?

XxX

Everything felt off as the beast…no former beast paced his chambers in the West Wing forth the tenth time in the last nine hours. In truth his chambers felt much bigger now. His three strides compared to one stride from the beast's walk surprised him. Lumiere was bustling around with excitement while Mrs. Potts tended to his wounds and bandaging them; the cloth feelt ruff against his soft human skin. He could barely believe it; the spell had been broken at last. Yet, none of that seemed to matter as he quickened his pace, irritable. The image of Belle's face would not leave him alone. He had been fear and confusion in her gaze when she had looked upon him as she had done when they had first met as the beast. What could that mean?

As though sensing her thoughts, Mrs. Potts looked up at him. "Is something wrong, Master?"

He blinked and looked down at his old nurse. The curse had not affected her much except for one or two extra wrinkles, but she was still the same caring, motherly women he had known in his youth. He sighed. "I…it's just…" He winced as she pulled the cloth tight around his hand. "It's…nothing."

Mrs. Potts and Lumiere exchange a worried glance. A low soft growl rumbled in his throat as he caught the exchange between them. The quality of the growl was pitiful, but that did not cool his slight temper. Beast or human, he hated the concerned way the servants have a code amongst themselves.

Lumiere looked over at him. "Is it Madame Belle?"

The former beast looked up at his servant and friend. How could he explain it to them? The curse was broken, but still the image would not leave him in peace. He turned away from his nurse and walked over to a window, staring out to the empty landscape, the clouds were now turned a light pink, signaling the arrival of dawn, a transformation to the new day awaiting them.

"She doesn't love me."

Lumiere chuckled. "Oh, Master, that is impossible, her love for you finally broke the spell."

He shook his head. She had confessed her love for the beast not for him. He could still hear her almost plea of where the beast had gone unable to see that he and the beast were one in the same. Why could she not see it? He wanted to go after her and explain everything, but that look in her eyes and his wounds had prevented it.

He sighed. "No, Lumiere, she does not love me….at least not the me like this." He placed a bandaged hand against his furless face. His voice was soft as he admitted it to himself. "She's terrified of me."

Lumiere shook his head. "I do not understand."

"Oh, Lumiere, imagine what the poor woman has been through. She was married to that horrible man and now you, Master." She turned to him. "As the beast you made her find true love, but now you're a man again. She has already been crushed by the man she called her husband. Once a woman gets hurt it is not easy to give their heart to someone else."

He blinked as Mrs. Potts ran through his mind. Was that the reason for her to become distant from him after he had transformed? Somehow he had known the reason, but could not admit it to himself. He had only thought about finally his humanity back after all these years. Yet, now he had to think about Belle. Without a word, he turned and headed out for his chambers to find her and explain.

**Okay so I know everyone wanted the Happy Ever After right in this chapter, but the change from the beast to the man would have a big impact on Belle I feel which is why I wrote it the way I did. Also I never really liked the fact that the Beast (I know it's disney magic) turned to the prince was completely healed from ALL his wounds fron the fight, so that's why I had him have some of the cuts in his hands remained. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review and let me know what you think. **


	30. Chapter 30

**Here is the next chapter. I own nothing, but the plot twists and Chantal. I have no BETAer so any mistakes are my own fault. I hope you enjot this chapter**.

Belle sighed deeply as she returned to her empty bedchamber after excusing herself from dinner with Chantal and the prince claiming she had been tired. She shivered the idea of sleep which was now intolerable like spending any more time with the prince. It had been a week since the transformation and still she could not feel comfortable in his presence. She moved over to her vanity mirror, running her fingers through her hair, anxiously. Why was it such a struggle for her accept the transformation? The whole experience was straight out of her stories she had loved to read as a child.

In another life, she would have accepted it with excitement and ease as Chantal had done. Yet, the reality of life had slowly weathered away her acceptance of such things as spells, curses, and enchantresses as the prince and the others kept trying to tell her over dinner. Despite all their claims of witchcraft, no one would answer her question, where was her Beast? A few tears ran down her face as her thoughts once more turned that night when everything had changed. How was any of this possible? What had happened to her beast?

A knock at the door broke her out her thoughts. Dying her eyes, she gave permission to enter before Madame slowly walked through her door, carrying a new gown in her arms. Her footsteps echoed around the silent chamber as she crossed the floor. For the second time, Belle was reminded of how empty the room felt without Madame's large, cheerful, and constant presence as the wardrobe. Yet, another thing lost since the whole transformation.

"Is everything all right, Madame? You do not seem to getting much sleep lately." The older woman said as she set the gown upon the bed.

Belle dapped at her eyes and nodded. "I'm fine, Madame…."

The older woman looked over at her, concern etched on her face. She moved over and cupped Belle's face in her large hands. "Ah now it will be all right, dear." Wiping away a few stray tears, she said, "Now I brought the gown as you requested for the funeral."

The _funeral_, the word kept circling through her mind as her heart sank. Despite all the protests, she had asked for a memorial service to be held for Gaston. Her gaze shifted away from Madame's concerned face and rested on the black gown on the bed. Rising to her feet, she moved over to the bed, her fingers running gingerly against the fabric. The cool black velvet felt strange beneath her fingertips as she picked the gown up and held it up against herself. Was the funeral really only a day away?

Once more, she heard the protests of the servants and the others when she had explained her wish for the service. Each one had pointed out his cruelty and how he did not deserve the honor of a formal funeral. She sighed, allowing it to fall ungracefully back onto the bed.

"Is something, wrong, Madame? Is it not what you wanted?" Madame asked.

Belle shook her head. "Non, I just need to…find Chantal. It's getting late."

Without another word, she slipped out of the bedchamber and hurried down the corridor. Everything was happening too quickly. More tears rolled down her face, blurring her vision as she continued to stumble through the different passageways until she reached the library doors. She gripped one of the handles to steady herself, but paused at the sound of voices coming from within. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before she pulled the doors open and stepped inside.

Chantal was lying on the floor playing with another one of her inventions and explaining how it worked to a small attentive group: Mrs. Potts, Chip, and…. the prince. It still unnerved her at seeing the former teapot and cup in their human form, no matter how warm and friendly they were. Shaking her head, she peered over Chip's head and focused on Chantal. Belle's heart quickened in confusion swelled inside of her as she watched Chantal. She saw the light in Chantal's gaze as she spoke, but did she not understand that her father was died. Uneasily, she cleared her throat as all eyes turned to her.

Belle gulped, but forced herself to be calm. "Chantal…it's time for bed."

Chantal pouted as she looked over at her. "Maman, I'm not done telling them how this works."

Belle nodded, but did not move to join the small group. "I know, darling, but it is getting late and tomorrow is…" She paused. "A…big day."

Chantal looked up at her, her gaze now filled with a small amount of sadness as she bowed her head and nodded.

Mrs. Potts stood up and clapped her hands. "All right, children time for bed."

Belle watches silently as the old nurse rounds the children up and escorts them out of the library with a warm authority around her. She listened as the voices of the children faded down the corridor and sighed.

"It's good…. to see you, Belle. Are you…feeling better?" The prince asked from behind her.

Belle's breath caught in her throat; each time she heard his voice she felt the beast's presence in the room, giving her a glimmer of hope. Closing her eyes, she turned and braced herself before she opened them. Once more, her heart sank as she saw the prince standing in his place. He was a tall man dressed in a simple cream colored shirt and dark pants, similar to what he had worn on the evening of the transformation. His hair which had framed his face was now pulled back into a pony tail. Yet, she could not meet his eyes as she stared at him. She cursed herself for being foolish enough to believe the beast had returned.

"Are you….feeling better?" The same hesitant concern the beast always had laces his voice. It felt so familiar yet different coming from this new body.

Belle bit her lip, averting her gaze from him. "I'm…all right…." A shameful blush crept onto her cheeks at having forgotten his human name. It seemed improper to call him a beast now.

She heard him take a step toward her. "Adam and I'm glad you are doing better."

"Are…you feeling better…Adam?" Belle gestured to his hands where the last of the wounds were.

She envisioned the prince…Adam nodding "Oh, yes it is almost completely healed, thank you." He paused and took another step forward. "I've missed…our time together."

Belle glanced over at him. She longed to admit she missed their time together, but the words would not form. An awkward silence fell between them as they stared at each other. Belle began to fiddle with her fingers, uncertain of what to next. Only a week ago, she had been able to talk to the beast with ease, but now she seemed at a loss for any words at all.

After a moment, he asked, "Are…you ready for the journey tomorrow."

She nodded, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Yes." After a moment, she added. "Which is why I had to interrupt and see Chantal to bed early"

"Of course."

Belle sighed, running her fingers through her hair. It had been decided the funeral would be held in the village tomorrow afternoon in the church where everyone could come and mourn the death of the town's greatest hero, killed in battle against a great beast. Part of her longed for Adam to say he would accompany them, but a larger part knew it would be wrong. If she was planning to move on from her marriage, the least she could do was allow him to rest in peace and say farewell.

Adam shifted uncomfortably and looked at her. "Well…you should probably get some sleep too. I'll…have Lumiere and Mrs. Potts get everything ready for your journey." He gave a small bow. "Good night, Madame."

Without another word, he moved and walked out of the library and down the corridor to his chambers in the West Wing. Belle listened silently until his footsteps had faded away. There had been no hint of anger in his voice at not tending to his needs as Gaston would have done. Everything felt so familiar, yet at the same time different with Adam.

She shook her head_. No, one thing at a time. Just get through tomorrow and the funeral_. Taking a deep breath, she turned and turned in the opposite direction as she returned to her own bedchamber.

XxX

The overcast sky fit the day perfectly as Belle stood next to Chantal, listening silently to the priest. Behind her, she heard all the mourners crying for the loss of the great hero while the priest kept praising Gaston's actions for the village. Yet, their cries and the Father's words fell on deaf ears. All the villagers were in mourning for a great hero, but none of them had felt the sting of his hands as they slapped them. None of them had cried themselves to sleep after being blamed repeatedly for the loss of the children or had been abused in the evenings for his pleasure. None of them knew the monster which lay behind a handsome face.

Unconsciously, her arm tightened around Chantal, who clung to her gown. Still, somehow despite all of the cruelty, she could not bring herself to hate him in the afterlife. Her marriage vows run though her mind as she stared down at the casket as it was lowered into the earth. _For better or for worse, until death do us part_.

She nodded to herself as a few tears rolled down her face. Most of it had been for the worst, but she had Chantal and that was the greatest blessing she could receive.

Soon, the crowd of mourners began to disperse from the grave site, leaving wife and child alone. Chantal pulled away from her and moved to the edge, kneeling down near the tombstone, her fingers resting gingerly on the rough stone.

"Maman, is Papa in heaven now?" Her voice was soft and distant as though she did not want to believe her own question.

Belle felt her feet move by themselves as she walked over and knelt beside her. She wrapped her arm around Chantal's shoulders and squeezed. "I…believe so. God's mercy is great. Your…papa was many terrible things, but he did give you to me and for that alone I am grateful to have been married to him."

Chantal turned to stare at her, her blue eyes wide. "Really?"

Belle nodded, smiling softly. "Oui, you are my most precious gift, ma cherrie." She kissed the top of her head.

"Is that why you don't like….him anymore?"

Belle's breath caught in her throat. "Shh now and come, let's go see your grandfather. He is waiting for us."

Chantal nodded and took her hand as Belle led her away from the graveyard.

Each step seemed to take a strong effort as she and Chantal moved through and out of the village and into her father's cottage. Maurice embraced both of them as they entered the warm room.

"Welcome home, Belle and little Chantal." He forced a smile for the child's sake and then looked up at Belle. "How was it?"

Belle shrugged. "It was….all right, Papa. The priest did a nice job."

Maurice looked at her, concern shinning through his tired eyes. "Is that the only reason you are so unhappy?"

Belle nodded. "Of course, Papa, what other reason would there be. He was my husband and he was just buried. How can I be happy at…."

Maurice waved away her words and clasped her hands in his. "Non, there is something else. I may not have seen it when you were younger, but I now know that you were never truly happy with him. This is something else." He paused. "Has something happened to your beast?"

"Papa, please not now."

"Belle, I only wish you to be happy. Did something happen?"

Belle sighed and motioned for Chantal to another room before she turned back to him. Fresh tears rimmed her eyes which shined in confusion. "Oh, Papa. I don't know what to do. He's changed so much….the one I loved has gone and now my husband is gone as well. What am I going to do?"

Maurice paused thoughtful. "How has he changed?"

Belle bit her lip. How could she explain it? Any sane person would cart her off to an asylum if she spoke about curses and transformations from animal to human. She sighed and shook her head. "I cannot describe it, Papa."

"Has he changed in his attitude toward you?"

She shook her head. "No, he has not changed in that way not like…."

Maurice nodded, somber. He squeezed her hands and smiled. "My little Belle, maybe you should look again. I was to blind by thinking of your happiness that I never looked at what Gaston had done to you, though I am not speaking ill of the dead now. All I'm saying is look again and understand what you see. Maybe you'll find that prince you were always looking for and be free to decide."

He patted her hand before he turned and called for Chantal to follow him into the workroom down in the basement.

Belle moved over and sat by the fire, the heat of the flames warming her cold hands as she rubbed them together, deep in thought. How could she explain any of this? A half hearted chuckle escaped her as her father's words replayed in her mind. The beast had indeed turned into a prince as she had wished for as a child. Chantal was so eager and willing to except him, why couldn't she?

Somehow she felt trap within her wedding vows and her marriage. Unconsciously, her right hand ran over her left and paused where her wedding band had once been. She blinked and looked down at her bare hand. She recalled her father removing the ring before she had returned to the castle, but somehow she still felt the weight of her marriage. She turned and stared into the fire and sighed. Could the answers be back at the castle with the ones she had come to care for?

XxX

Adam placed the still enchanted mirror down and sighed, running his hand through hair. The conversation between Belle and her father kept replaying in his mind. He had only meant to check to see that she was all right after the funeral, but the conversation and caught his attention as they were speaking about him. He stared down at his human form, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He wanted to laugh at the irony. He had loathed his beastly cage, but it was that same form that Belle had fallen in love with. Closing his eyes, he had a promise to himself that he would find away to make her happy again, no matter what it cost.

**Well what do you think? Please let me know. I know strange to have a funeral for the evil Gaston, but he was Belle's husband and regardless of how cruel he was I would imagine even Belle (in the movie) would do the "proper" thing by giving him a proper buriel. And I was gonna make this the last chapter, but I decided Belle and Adam needed more time to get together now that the transformation had taken place and I did not want it to feel rushed. So, I guess my story will be an uneven number. Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought. Summer is here so I should be able to get the next chapter out soon. :) **


	31. Chapter 31

**WOW talk about a delay in updating a story. I am so, so, SO sorry for the wait for all my readers, but mostly for the ones who have read and have encouraged me this whole time.** **I own nothing, but the "new" plot and the chracter of Chantal. Also I have a vote fot my next story at the end for you all my readers, so please read the end comments if you wish to put some imput into my next story. Anyway, enough chit chat, without further adu, I give you the final chapter. **

"Master, you cannot be serious?" Concern and confusion filled Lumiere's mind as he followed the prince back up to the West Wing. Only an hour ago, the entire household staff had been called together in the throne room. Everyone had been anxious to hear his news, but no one was prepared for it.

"You cannot be thinking of asking/….." His voice trailed off unable to complete it. Wringing his hands together, he tried another approach. "What about us, your Highness. I don't mean to be self centered and we are with you as well, but-"

"Then why does it feel you are against me?" the prince asked, quickening his pace. Remains of the beast's temper shown through his voice. "And was I not clear enough? I shall ask her for it for me alone…nobody else will suffer." He paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eye. "Lumiere….you must understand….she hates me…this physical man I have become….she wants…" He took a deep breath. "She loves the beast…"

Lumiere stared at him, a sense of pride swelling his heart. The man before him was not the same spoiled child or the cruel beast that had tormented the staff with a single glance. Through Belle and Chantal he had changed and grown into a fine man who cared for others in his life. Why could Belle not see that her beast and the prince were one and the same?

Carefully, he took a step forward, resting his hand on the prince's shoulder. "Your Highness, I…understand the reasons, but are you willing to give up your humanity again? I mean…will you be able to life with it?"

The prince let out a small chuckle. "I lived with it for many years I can manage."

Lumiere nodded. "Oui, of course, but what about your people? Surely they want their prince to return?"

A low growl rumbled in the prince's throat. "I don't care….the people managed without me and they will do it again….Belle and Chantal are who matter must to me." Without another word, he turned and walked up to his chambers, a determination in his step as he climbed the stairs.

Lumiere watched silently until the master was out of sight. His face fell as a sense of dread filled him. "Oh my, what will happen now?"

XxX

"Maman, why is so dark?" Chantal asked.

Belle blinked and looked up, pulling Philippe to a halt, her eyebrows knitting together. The cloudless blue sky had darkened within mere seconds as they neared the castle. She felt Chantal snuggle closer to her, apprehensively in the saddle. Belle tightened the reins as she glanced up at the dark clouds once more. How had they moved in so quickly? The air around her felt suddenly hot as she prayed that the rain would stay bay for a little while longer. Beneath her, she felt Philippe's body tense as though he could sense the unseen in the air.

Her eyes survey the landscape around them, but still saw nothing. Kicking Philippe into a walk, she suppressed a shudder as a familiar sensation swept over her. She yearned to gallop back to the castle, but Chantal's presence kept the urge down. Still, she cannot escape the feeling of dread with each step of Philippe's hoofs seeming to be so slow.

As the tower spirals came into view, she wrapped a secure arm around Chantal and kicked Philippe into a gallop. Her backend continually slammed against the saddle, but she ignored the pain as she leaned slightly forward in her seat as though she could just will them to arrive faster.

By the time they reached the courtyard, Belle's muscles ached. She heard Chantal ask after her wellbeing, but she could not answer. She raised her eyes to the darkening sky and gulped. There was something strange going on and somehow Adam was involved. She forced herself to walk, her legs felt as though they would buckle beneath her and yet somehow she was able to get inside the main hall where Lumiere had just entered.

He stared at her in shock before he rushed over her. "Madame you're back-"

"Where is he, Lumiere?"

Lumiere tried to calm her. "Madame, Bell, he will be back down soon, there is nothing to worry about. Please be calm."

She knelt down and caressed her daughter's hair. "Sweetie, can you stay here with Lumiere and the others. I'll be right back."

Chantal stared back at her, her blue eyes wide as she could sense the unspoken trouble. It amazed Belle how perceptive a child could be at times even when she would try her hardest to spare her like when Gaston flew into one of his tempers. Yet, now she did not know what she was going to face and she would not put her daughter through any more pain; one so young had already suffered enough pain and sadness.

Forcing a smile, she said, "You know…you had that invention you were working on before we left. Why don't you go finish it and you can show me later, all right?"

Chantal nodded. "Okay, Maman."

Belle hugged her and kissed her forehead before she stood up.

Lumiere took Chantal's hand and gestured down one of the corridors "He is in his chambers, Madame."

Belle nodded and watched Lumiere as he turned and led Chantal away back toward the library in the east wing. Taking a deep breath, she turned and took off at a run toward the once forbidden West Wing, the same unknown sensation of terror filling her heart.

Despite her exhaustion, she flew up the stairs; her dainty feet seeming to fly on an invisible gust of wind. She shoved the door open and winced in surprise as a bright white light blinded her. Her heart raced as she stepped carefully into the chamber. The light felt warm and comforting against her face, but its unnaturalness sent a shiver down her spine. Pushing through her own fear, she kept walking further inside. Her eyes trying in vain to see the prince, his name perched on her lips.

"Adam!" Her voice seemed to cut through the light as patches of it began to vanish.

Belle blinked rapidly; each time vanquishing more of the unnatural light until there was only a few torches and the full moon to light the chamber. Her breath slowed as she scanned the chamber once more. Yet, still she could not see Adam.

"Where are you?" she croaked, her throat suddenly hoarse.

Her mind raced with a million questions. Where was he? Had something happened to him? She shook her head. No, she could not think like that, but still with each passing moment the possibilities grew worse and worse.

A low moan broke into her thoughts as she turned and ran out onto the balcony. Her feet came a halt, her hand resting on the threshold, her mouth a gape in confusion, shock, and wonder. A young man laid in a fetal position; his back to her, almost rocking back and forth in an unknown agony. Part of her longed to go and comfort him, but something kept her back as though she understood it was a private moment for him. Silently, she stared at him, her eyes surveying his form. His pale pink and dark pants were torn in places as the beast would have worn them. His cries of frustration still held an undertone of a fierce growl as he muttered to himself.

Belle strained to make out the words, only catching snippets.

"So close…it was working…why?"

Belle gulped and took a small step out onto the balcony. "What's wrong?"

Adam froze and shook his head. "Oh…why didn't it work?"

She moved over and knelt down near him, her maternal instincts outweighing her fear of his meaning. Reaching her hand out, she asked, "What didn't work?"

He jerked away from her and pushed himself up onto his knees. His head hung low as though he refused to meet her gaze. "I…oh Belle it was perfect and she had agreed to do it, but it didn't work."

"What didn't work, Beast?"

He looked up at her and stood up. "That's just it, Belle. I wanted to bring the beast back to you and it was working, but something went wrong."

Belle sat frozen upon the ground; his words rolling around in her mind. Some part of her said he was lying, but a larger part knew he spoke the truth. He was willing to give up his human body for her. She took a deep breath, trying to find the words she craved. Yet, only one question escaped her lips. "Why…would you do that?"

Adam moved over and knelt down next her. "Belle…I could see it in your eyes…you wanted the beast back….it was what you wanted."

She opened her mouth, but paused. Was it truly what she wanted? When the transformation had first occurred, she had longed for the best to return. Yet, now could she say the same thing? Memories of the beast swept through her mind: the strong beast who braved a storm to find her daughter, the gentle beast who read with her for hours in the library and played with Chantal, the beast who supported her when she spoke of her lost children. Never lifting a neither claw nor hand against her or her daughter or talk down to her as she was a child.

Even as a perfect prince, he never raised a hand to her, allowing her be left alone in order to come to terms with the transformation and making no demands of her. He was no monster as her husband had been. She looked up at him and stared into those fierce blue eyes of the beast; the same ones which shone with affection for Chantal and the ones Belle could lose herself in with their promise to protect both her and her daughter. Carefully, she reached up, running her hand through his reddish brown mane, warm tears beginning to escape her eyes.

"It is really you."

Adam reached out and mirrored her action as his own fingers ran through her hair. He smiled gently and nodded. They stayed that way for a while just looking at each other.

After a moment, Adam removed his hand from her hair and asked, "Are you sorry that I was not able to turn back into the beast?"

She shook her head. "But you are the beast…fur or not." She paused. "But for my own curiosity, do you have any idea why it failed?"

Adam shook his head. "No…I was promised it would work and if you had not come when you did I am certain it would have worked."

"Oh." She blushes. "And you would have really done it for me…for us?"

Once more, he nodded. "Yes…don't you trust me?"

Belle gave a small smile. "I... do and I love you."

As the words left her lips, she realized the truth of them. Her marriage had been done out of duty to her father and her mother's memory. Love had never entered her mind when she thought of him. She shivered as she recalled Gaston's rough hands upon her as he took her for his own pleasure or raised in anger at losing his desired sons and heirs. No, true love could never come from that life she had lived with him. It felt strange, she had never known love between a man and woman and yet somehow she knew she could not live without Adam by her side and Chantal's.

As if reading her mind, Adam stood up and held out his hand. "Come."

Belle accepted and together they turn and head back down to the library. Belle cannot help, but smile at hearing the sound of Chantal's excited voice floating down the corridor. Belle entered the room and smiled as she saw Chantal and Chip working together on her invention with Lumiere and Mrs. Potts keeping a watchful eye on them.

Chantal looked up and called out to her, smiling. "Maman, it works, it works!"

Belle walked into the room and knelt down beside the children as they both began to explain how it worked; their eyes lit with fresh enthusiasm. Belle glanced over and caught Adam staring in on them from the threshold, leaning against the door with a genuine content stare as he watched them, allowing them to have their moment.

Her heart swelled as images of own father watching her from the distance ran through her mind. In those moments, she had known more than words that he loved her. In Adams's eyes, she saw the same thing now.

Belle turned back to Chantal. "Sweetie…do you want to stay here?"

Chantal looked at her, confused. "Here….in this room?"

Belle smiled and ruffled her hair. "No." She stood up and beckoned for Adam to join her. He did and smiled down at Chantal. "I think, Chantal, your mother was thinking….would you like to stay here with me, Chip, Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth and all the others."

Chantal looked between them. "Forever?"

Belle smiled and nodded. "Oui, ma cheerie."

Belle let out a real laugh as Chantal launched herself up into her arms in a great hug. Smoothing her daughter's hair, Belle placed a gentle kiss upon her head. She smiled as she felt Adam wrap one of his arms around her waist while the other lay against Chantal's hair.

"Hey Chantal, look at this. What is this?" Chip called, pointing to an open book upon the floor.

Chantal wormed out of her mother's grasp and ran back over to her friend. Once more, the children were lost in their new ideas for more inventions and how they were going to accomplish it. Belle sighed as she leaned her head against Adam's chest, content.

It still astonished and saddened her that Gaston had been unable to see the brilliance his daughter possessed. Somehow Adam had been able to see it in a stranger's child and even encouraged her interests. She still could not believe any of this was really happening after the previous day of burying her husband in the ground.

She felt Adam shift, bringing her out of her thoughts, and she turned to look at him.

He gazed down at her, a light of understanding in his eyes. "You know…I will never replace your first husband."

Belle stared at him, taken aback. "You were always more a man than he was in all those years of marriage. He was the true monster."

"He gave you Chantal."

Belle sighed, looking back at her daughter. "Oui and would never give her up. " She paused and looked at him, turning his face toward hers. "But you are the man I truly love." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"And I you, Belle." He took her hands in his and smiled. "You know we never did finish the story of King Arthur."

Belle smiled. "No, we didn't."

He returned the gesture and led her further inside the library. Together they joined the children as a true family began.

**Well that is it. I wish to thank all my wonderful reviewers and people who have followed and just faverited this story, it really means a lot to me**.** I am sorry if this chapter seemed short, but it felt like a good way to end Belle, the beast, and Chantal's story.I know the beast didn't do a lot of action in trying to prove himself to Belle, but I thought that once she fully connected the two as one person and that he was willing tpo do what he did that it would remind her that she does love him and that he is the same man/ beast she fall for. So. please review and let me know what you think. **

** Also on my profile page, there are two story ideas for my next Beauty and the Beast stor (the summeries aare on the profile page too, one called, Beautiful Memories and the other A Wild Rose (which may be a crossover or moved into the Fairy tale section I'm not sure),but I'm leaving it up to you guys which one do I do next? Please put the answer in your review or send me a private message. Though I warn you it may take a while for etheir story to be put up because I am starting my senior year of college this fall and I want to make ethier story the best it can be. **

**Anyway, I just want to rethank all of you, you the reviewers are the reason I kept working at this story. So I hope you enjoyed this last chapter and the story as a whole. :)**


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